The World Shall Brightly Burn
by GUROLoli
Summary: There are boys, there are stupid boys, and then there are the Marauders. This is the story of their humble beginnings and subsequent rise to the status of gods amongst pranksters.
1. Year 1, Autumn: Unnoticed

Welcome to _The World Shall Brightly Burn_, which reviewers have called "brill" :)

I'm currently in the process of updating older chapters and fixing my plethora of typos.

Last Chapter Updated: Chp 11

Last Update: 4/7/09

* * *

**I. Unnoticed**

Remus J. Lupin was a little too short, as far as he was concerned. The top of his head, he thought, was just low enough to be the perfect place to rest one's chin, or set down a cup of tea. He might soon find people trying to put a book down on top of him, and then gasp in surprise when they realized he wasn't a conveniently placed table. Remus would have to be careful to not be stepped on, because most people were going to look right over him and never even see he was there in the first place.

And it wasn't as if they'd be missing anything, Remus grimly supposed. He was just a little boy that was plain and predictably brown haired and brown eyed—and he was _definitely_ too short.

The only thing that saved him from fading into the crowd _completely_ was one physical difference between himself and the other students at Platform 9 and ¾: he had two long scars that ran down his cheek, and a third that went over his nose. These scars weren't as noticeable as they had been when he'd first given them to himself, but they did give him the embarrassing appearance of being the loser of a spectacular battle against a garden gnome. Or a hostile cat. Something of that nature.

"Promise me you'll behave yourself," Mrs. Lupin told him, and her voice broke as she hugged Remus with an unnecessarily hard squeeze. In a few minutes time, her only son was to be off to school and separated from her for months, and Mrs. Lupin didn't often let Remus out of her sight for more than fifteen minutes. "Professor Dumbledore is being very good to you by allowing you to come, so try very hard to make him not regret his kindness, alright?"

"I'll be good, Mum," Remus said. "I promise."

"And you have to send us letters whenever you can—"

"Yeah."

"—and tell us if you need anything—"

"I know."

"—and if you ever want to come back home, we'll understand! You don't even need to get on that train if you don't want to!"

"I want to go, Mum!"

"Alright," Mrs. Lupin said, giving him a smile, and Remus just looked sideways and sighed as his mother took out a hairbrush and attacked his head with it. If Remus had ever wanted anything so badly in his life, it was to board the Hogwarts Express and be like every other young wizard in Britain, off to Hogwarts to learn magic and how to use a wand. He might even make friends for the first time in his life.

And yet there was another part of him, a frightened part, a part that secretly felt comforted that his parents had been overprotective of him ever since he was four years old. This part was his greatest adversary—it nagged at him, telling him he ought to throw himself at his parents and demand to go back home. The whole idea of being allowed to go to school against everyone's good judgment was terrifying, and the thought of having to keep an enormous secret from all of his classmates for the rest of his school career was positively daunting.

"Remus," said Mr. Lupin finally, and he clapped him on the shoulder and looked at him with his usual firmness. "Just do your best and don't let anyone get suspicious. You'll be just fine."

Of course, his father was referring to the one other difference between Remus J. Lupin and the other Hogwarts students—the bit where he just so happened to be a werewolf.

Lycanthropy was a wizard disease without a cure. If you were bitten, it was over. _Bam_, a werewolf, no going back, and that was that. A werewolf was a werewolf forever, and there was no point in wishing and praying you weren't. Remus was only four when he'd been bitten, and the fact that he changed from being an uninteresting boy of eleven into a stonking great beast once a month was what made his going to Hogwarts absolutely absurd. Remus was about to be the very first werewolf ever allowed to attend, and despite all the precautions the staff had taken, despite all of the comforting letters that Professor Dumbledore had written to his parents, Remus still feared that he was going to transform and attack someone. He had never bitten anyone, but if he ever did, he could imagine quite clearly his wand being snapped, being expelled, and having to live with his guilt for the rest of his life. This was perhaps the most frightening part of all: the possibility, the mere _thought_ of hurting another human.

"I will, Dad," Remus responded, but his voice shook.

"There's a good boy," his father said encouragingly, and a whistle blew, warning that the train would be leaving shortly. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin helped their son pull his trunk onto the train as Remus' brown and boring owl hooted gloomily from its swinging cage—a rather suiting owl, Remus thought darkly—and there was a lot of kissing and hugging and crying from Mrs. Lupin, who offered him at least ten more times to let him come back home. When the train finally lurched forward, Remus pressed his nose against a window to try to catch sight of his parents one more time. He waved to them, but he went unnoticed, as his mother had her face in a handkerchief as she sobbed, and his father was comforting her.

The train picked up speed, and soon his parents had disappeared from the window. Remus wrenched himself away from the glass, sighing, and went off to try to find an empty compartment to sit in.

"Oi," someone said.

Remus turned around to see boy that was also rolling a trunk down the corridor. He was hazel eyed and wore glasses, and he had black hair that went all over the place. Remus couldn't help but have the sad realization that this boy definitely would have stood out in a crowd.

"Hi," he said, grinning broadly as he spoke. "You're a first year, right?"

Remus' eyebrows raised, and when he opened his mouth, he couldn't make any sound come out.

"Well, I was just about to go into this compartment right here," the boy plowed on, pointing. "There's a girl in there, but she looks alright. Seems a bit depressed though. I wonder if she's homesick already?"

"I wouldn't know," Remus said, the inside of his mouth feeling like a desert, or maybe cardboard. It seemed ridiculous that this boy wasn't cowering away from him. He'd never had a person speaking to him so eagerly in his life, not even his aunts and uncles and grandparents, because they usually preferred that he stayed in his bedroom while they visited.

"She looks really lonely," the boy said. "So do you wanna sit with me and maybe…?"

"I have somewhere else to sit," lied Remus. He really just wanted to find a compartment he could have to himself, and then he could start writing a letter to his parents, to let them know that he was still in good health and eating right since he had last seen them five minutes ago.

"Oh," the boy said, his face falling a little, "well. That's alright. My name's James Potter, by the way. Nice to meet you, then. I'll see you at Hogwarts, I s'pect."

Remus nodded curtly as the boy ducked into the compartment and disappeared. It seemed that the second Remus _had_ been noticed, he wanted to get away as quickly as possible. Being noticed would be dangerous, he decided, as he tried to rationalize this to himself, because if he was just ignored, his secret could stay perfectly safe, and James Potter treating him nicely was probably some kind of a fluke.

Yes, perhaps if he could just avoid human contact altogether for the next seven years he would be better off.

Remus went down the corridor a bit more, his trunk still rolling over the carpeted floor. He looked into the compartment windows, but all of them seemed to be completely full of chattering older students that all knew each other already, or at least occupied by nervous first years like himself, who had maybe discovered each other on the platform and thought it was best to stick together. Remus, sorely wishing for the thousandth time that day, like he did everyday, that he wasn't a werewolf, kept moving.

Remus came to the very last compartment, and his heart leapt, because he couldn't see anyone sitting inside. He slowly opened the door.

"Er," he began, hoping that no one was going to answer, "is anyone in here…?"

His voice faded almost immediately. There were two people inside, just far enough to the left that they couldn't have been seen through the window. They seemed to be having an argument that might turn into a shouting match at any moment, and neither of them was paying attention to the person who was standing at the compartment door.

One of them was a tall girl with light brown hair and heavily lidded eyes, probably a seventh year, and she was already wearing her black school robes. She was fumbling with a pin on her robes that meant that she was the Head Girl.

"Honestly," she said, after stabbing herself in the finger, "I don't care how stubborn you are about it, you can't just change that who you are on a whim. We're purebloods, we _belong_ in Slytherin."

"And since when does your blood decide anything?" said the boy who was arguing with her, and he looked very intimidating, which was saying something, as eleven year olds didn't often look intimidating. He had black hair that most respectable people would have believed was in need of cutting—he looked like he was one of those Muggle pop band members that Remus' mother and father would roll their eyes at when they appeared on television. "I bet there's been plenty of people who weren't in the same house as their families!"

"Then name a few," the girl challenged, venomously.

The boy opened his mouth, but it seemed he had no response, so he settled for a glare. Remus guessed from the shape of the arguers' faces and their similar mannerisms that they were probably related.

"But I don't _want_ to be in Slytherin, and that's _got_ to count for _something_! If I end up there, I'll just be surrounded by all my nasty, snot-nosed cousins who—"

"_I_ would be one of those snot-nosed cousins," the girl snapped at him. She was now straightening her tie, which had a green and silver pattern on it. "And being a Slytherin isn't anything to be ashamed of. As much as you're against it, the whole family's been in Slytherin House, and you can't just defy all logic and go to Gryffindor—"

"Gryffindor sounds better than Slytherin! At least I won't be hearing about pure bloods and how they're better than everyone else until I _vomit_."

"You are utterly unbelievable. I know it's hard with your parents always going on about that, and mine do too, but there's no doubt you're going to be—"

"I'm not talking to you anymore," the boy announced angrily. He grabbed his trunk and gave it a violent tug towards the door. Remus suddenly remembered that he was standing in the doorway and was probably about to be run over.

"I'm going to go sit with the boy I met on the platform. I liked him, and he says his Dad was in Gryffindor, so he probably will be too. Maybe it's best that I make friends with people that aren't pureblooded and actually _care_ if they're lumped in with the same lot as the Death Eaters."

"Fine, ignore what I say, I'm not stopping you," the girl said, and she looked annoyed as she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. The boy began to pull his trunk out of the compartment, but he suddenly looked up and noticed for the first time that Remus was standing there.

"Er," said Remus, "sorry, I'll just—"

But his voice suddenly faltered as he realized the boy was staring at him with a nasty look in his silvery eyes.

"You've got a great big chunk missing out of your nose, you know that?"

Remus' mouth opened about a fraction of a second before the boy shoved him into the wall and stormed down the corridor with his trunk wheeling behind.

"_Sirius!_ Get back here!"

But he was already gone, and the girl looked more agitated than ever as she came forward and helped Remus back up. She wasn't too terribly successful, however, as Remus didn't seem to want to cooperate—all of his worst fears and nightmares were now running through his head like a film played at double speed, and he half hoped he could go find somewhere dark where he could curl up and die quietly without causing anyone a hassle.

"I'm sorry he was rude to you," the girl said, when Remus finally got the feeling back in his legs and straightened up. "That was my little cousin. He's usually not that much of a brat, I'm sure he's didn't really _mean_—"

The girl's eyes swept over the scars on Remus' face and she evidently decided that it was best to swallow what she was going to say.

"Anyway, I have Head Girl duties to attend to," she said, hastily. "Do you not have anywhere to sit? You can sit in this compartment if you'll watch my things. I'm Andromeda Black, by the way, so you can come to me if you have trouble. You're a first year right?"

Remus barely nodded, but Andromeda gave him a pleasant smile.

"You look like you could be a Ravenclaw. You look smart. Have you put any thought into what house you want to be in?"

"Probably Ravenclaw," Remus answered, but it came out in a strange way, and he could have sworn he was more or less chewing on his tongue as he said it. "Because of Dad. Mum was in Gryffindor, but I don't think I'm brave enough to be one myself."

Andromeda nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, at least you've got more of a chance than Sirius does," she said with a dark laugh, and then she left the compartment.

--

--

AN: The first chapter! Trust me, the title will make sense in the end... reviews are loved! :D


	2. Year 1, Autumn: Quite Unlikely

**II. Quite Unlikely**

Remus looked up from the spell book he had been scanning for interesting bits when the compartment door slid open. He expected for it to be Andromeda, back for her things already, but it wasn't. It was in fact two people, probably first years, that Remus didn't recognize.

In front there stood a boy with, he noticed, oily hair that he must not have washed since summer break had started, but he was otherwise pale and sickly looking, so Remus chose not to mentally comment on it any further. Then his eyes slid toward the girl behind him, who stood behind him with a bossy sort of look on her pleasant face. She had dark red hair that fell past her shoulders and freckles splattered over her nose and cheeks.

"Nice scar," the boy said admiringly, pointing at Remus' nose. He had dull eyes and an awkward look about him, making it seem like he'd been raised in a dark cave, and he had such a prominent, hooked nose himself that Remus hadn't any idea why he was making such a big deal about _his_. The boy also seemed like the very last person on earth to be standing next to the pretty girl beside him, who was definitely, if anything, not raised in a cave. Her clothing looked like they had never been worn, or at least furiously washed and pressed that morning. Remus wished he could say that about his own clothing—most of it had little tears and stains from being a boy who had grownup in the countryside with no one ever around to care what he looked like.

"Can we sit here? Everywhere else is full," the redhead said, around the greasy-haired boy's shoulder. Remus only sort of sunk into his seat a few inches in response, and both of them entered with their trunks and sat down across from him. While the girl's trunk looked brand new, the boy's looked battered, like someone else had already used his for years.

"Oh, you have a _cat_," the girl cooed, for she had noted that the black cat that was snoozing on the luggage rack. It was the cat which Remus himself had only noticed ten minutes earlier, and had assumed it was Andromeda's.

"Sev, you're not allergic are you?"

"No, I don't care if he's got a cat…"

"It's not my cat," Remus blurted out, and the girl's green eyes met his own. He thought that they were a very attractive color.

"Whose cat is it?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Someone left it here earlier. That's her trunk, right there…" He pointed and then looked at them apologetically. "She'll probably come back, I don't know."

"Will she mind that we're here?" said the boy. He sounded unnecessary worried, as though he spent half of his life apologizing for his very existence.

"I wouldn't think so," Remus answered, trying to sound as kind as possible, despite the fact that his knees were now knocking together. He was still thinking that he would have preferred being left alone. "She seemed nice, she's the Head Girl."

"Andromeda Black," the boy said, and he turned with excited eyes to the redhead. "I heard that that was who it was. She's a Slytherin."

"Do you know her?" asked Remus.

"I've heard of her," he said, sounding a lot more secure now that he seemed to know something neither of the others did. "She's from the Black family… Lily, that's a really famous pureblood family, you know… anyway, I'm going to be in Slytherin too, and so is Lily."

Remus glanced at the redhead, who was suddenly staring at her feet. She seemed a little too kind to be in Slytherin house, and she was probably thinking along the same line. But, then again, perhaps she came from a long line of pureblooded wizards like the Black family as well, and would turn out to be perfectly suited for it.

"What's your name?" Remus asked the redhead, wondering if her last name would sound familiar.

"I'm Lily Evans," she admitted reluctantly, "and I'm actually a Muggle-born. I didn't even know I was a witch for a really long time. And I'm starting to doubt that I'm going to be in Slytherin, you know? Sev, don't you think I'd probably be in Hufflepuff or something? I thought there weren't any Muggle-borns in Slytherin?"

She had turned to her friend now, looking concerned.

"Maybe you'll get in anyway," the boy said quickly. "They can make exceptions, can't they?"

Remus doubted what he was saying. He had always heard of the Slytherin house and its obsession with purebloodedness, but worse than that, he had also heard whisperings of Slytherin's dark history, and how many members approved of the recent rise of Lord Voldemort, or even became Death Eaters, hoping to fight for his cause. Of all the Hogwarts houses, Remus did not want to be in Slytherin, and he couldn't really deny knowing why the obnoxious boy that had pushed him earlier had acted like being a Slytherin would be the last thing he'd do.

The greasy-haired boy talked only to Lily now, trying to explain as many details as he could about Hogwarts and magic before they arrived, and Lily nodded her head and occasionally asked questions. Remus listened as well, because it was like hearing the comforting voices of his parents all over again, who fussed over everything and had already drilled him on what he should expect at Hogwarts. They had said that they just wanted Remus to do well, but Remus, still having his doubts and his pessimistic outlook on things, thought they'd only quizzed him so much so he could arrive at school with his chances of failure a little lower.

Around lunchtime, a woman came by their compartment, pushing along a trolley. It was full of all sorts of snacks in colorful wrappers, most of it being sweets.

"Wizards have their own _sweets_?" Lily said, incredulous. Her friend nodded with a little smile on his face as she got up to buy one of everything, and then several more of the kinds she thought looked promising.

But neither of the boys left their seats. The pale boy seemed very sad to say that he didn't have money for sweets, and Remus refused as well, claiming that he didn't have any money either. Actually, his parents had given him a reasonable amount of gold to last him for the next two terms, but his parents were the sort of people who didn't approve of sweets, and he shuddered to think of what they might say if they knew he'd broken one of the rules they'd set for him on his very first day away from home.

"That's okay that you don't have money," Lily said brightly to both of them. "Let's share."

The boy across from Remus at first acted highly embarrassed, but then grinned and helped himself to a Licorice Wand. Even Remus felt himself being swayed by Lily's pretty smile, and as she held out a small pile of different things for him to try, he had a most extraordinary thought:

_A tiny violation of the rules can't hurt much, could it?_

"Go on," Lily urged him.

And then, even more shockingly, he suddenly realized that his parents would never_, ever_ find out about this breaching of the no-sweets code of conduct. This could be a secret that would go with him to the grave.

For the first time in his life, Remus felt just as rebellious as a Muggle pop band member. He chose something that looked like chocolate out of her hand, and stared down at it as though it was an ancient treasure he'd been told never to touch, but he was doing it anyway, and no one could stop him—not even the thousand palace guards that swarmed around him, prodding him with spears and asking him very nicely to put it down.

"What is this?" Remus asked, his heart racing at little, gazing at the foreign sweet in his palm.

The boy next to Lily choked on his Licorice Wand.

"Are you a Muggle-born too?" he asked wildly, and Lily looked at him almost hopefully, halfway through eating a Pumpkin Pastie.

"No… I've just never tried one of these."

"It's a Chocolate Frog," said the boy, looking a bit insulted that he'd never had one. "Can't you see it's a frog through the plastic? Go on and open it, it comes with a Wizard Card, lots of people collect them…"

Remus carefully opened the Chocolate Frog's wrapper, as opposed to ripping open the packaging and littering it on the floor, like what Lily and her friend were doing. He then pulled the frog out of the wrapper and set it on top of his open hand. While it did not move, it seemed very realistic, as though perhaps there was a real live frog inside of it that had been coated with chocolate.

"Go on then," Lily encouraged him. "What card is it?"

He now produced the Wizard Card from the wrapper, and flipped it over so that he could see who was on it.

"Merlin," Remus announced, and he held it out to show the two of them. Lily reached out with eager hands to see it, saying breathlessly to herself, "he's _real_?"

"That's a common one," the boy drawled, though it was news to Remus as well. "I don't collect them, but I—"

Lily gave a little shriek beside him, and both boys jumped. The black haired boy even whipped out his wand—even though Remus was pretty sure he didn't know any spells—like he would be ready to attack if the need came.

"What?" Remus inquired at last, once he'd looked around and saw no immediate danger.

"The picture moved!" Lily said, and both of them looked at her with raised eyebrows as she shoved the Wizard Card at her friend's face, apparently very scared. Remus had to lean sideways to see what Merlin was doing—he saw him merely giving a polite cough into his hand and staring out at them with a bored expression.

"And?" said the boy.

"_They're_ _not supposed to move_, Sev!"

"Blimey," said Remus, running a hand through his hair. "Not supposed to move? What planet are you from?"

"Oh," said the boy, comprehension suddenly dawning on his face. "Oh. You've only ever seen pictures that don't move. In our world, Lily, all of the pictures move… they can do all sorts of things, even walk right out of the picture if they want… look, he's doing it right now!"

Lily watched Merlin's picture casually go up to the side of the card and disappear.

"Wow," she said finally. "That's… that's really _cool_."

"Yeah. Wait until you get into the castle, my mum said that there's paintings everywhere that move around and stuff! The tapestries too!"

"How much do you know about what the inside of Hogwarts looks like?" Remus asked. His parents hadn't seen this topic as important. "How big is it, er… Sev?"

The boy laughed, but it was a strange laugh, like he hadn't had something to be amused by in quite a long time.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he put out his hand. "I never told you who I was. My name's Severus Snape."

"Remus Lupin."

He put out his hand and shook Severus'—his skin felt a little cool to the touch. Lily suddenly looked embarrassed that she too had forgotten to ask for his name, and when she expressed that she was sorry, Remus merely shrugged and finally bit off a piece of the Chocolate Frog that had been melting in his hand the whole time.

He quite instantly forgot his question.

"How is it?" Severus asked.

"Mm," was all that Remus could say, sorely wishing that he'd defied his parents' wishes about him not eating such things long ago. He would be a rebellious Muggle pop band member any day for _this_.

Remus hadn't even realized he'd closed his eyes and lazed back in his seat to properly enjoy the chocolate, but when he next looked at Lily and Severus, who sat together and yet looked as opposite as night and day, they turned to each other and laughed.

--

--

AN: I'm following along with the details given in "The Prince's Tale" in Deathly Hallows for these first few chapters, if you didn't know. And hey, did I mentioned spoilers? Yeah, now you've been properly warned. :)

Reviews loved dearly.


	3. Year 1, Autumn: In the Distance

**III. In the Distance**

Once the sky had begun to darken, and the pretty, leafy trees outside the window had turned old and gnarled, Severus checked his wristwatch—it had a cracked face—and announced to them that they would arrive at Hogwarts fairly soon. Andromeda had still not returned, but Remus didn't even think about her anymore.

The three of them now set to work, tidying up the rubbish they'd strewn on the floor. Together, they had eaten their way through most of the food Lily had bought, and Remus was amusing himself with the thought of himself transforming at the full moon, his long fangs riddled with cavities. While he seemed to have been very lucky to find a couple of misfit first years to sit with on the journey to Hogwarts, he realized with a pang that he couldn't tell them the truth about himself, even if they ended up being best friends.

Hours ago, when he was standing with his parents at King's Cross, it had seemed like it would have been easy to have lived as a recluse at Hogwarts, and perhaps always keep his mouth shut, so that people would think he was mute and wouldn't bother questioning him. But right now, he was suddenly bursting with the insane urge to tell both of them everything about the unfortunate bite he'd received before he'd even learned to ride his first broomstick.

Remus felt, bizarrely, that if he was going to make friends and go about this in the proper way, then there shouldn't be any secrets between them.

"Twenty five minutes now," Severus said, and he suggested they all change out of their Muggle clothes. Both boys decided that they would wait outside of the compartment for Lily to change to give her a little privacy, so both Remus and Severus ended up in the corridor, silent and looking around awkwardly.

"So, er," said Severus all at once, "how come you've got those scars on your face?"

"Er," Remus began. He had to think of either a very good lie or a way to avoid the question. At least for now. "It's an embarrassing story, really."

"What'd you do?" Severus asked, a quirky grin on his face. "Leave milk out for a knarl?"

Remus laughed like he'd hit the nail on the head, deciding to depreciate himself instead of telling him the real story.

In truth, it was several months ago when it happened: behind the Lupin's home there was a tool shed, an empty tool shed with an unusually heavy door. Remus was kept magically locked in there at every full moon, because when he was transformed, he lost all sense of himself, and would go to great lengths to escape, usually giving himself cuts and bruises as he clawed at the ground and threw himself up against the walls in anger. He also injured himself on purpose—if he didn't have any humans to bite, he had to bite _something_. So Remus, the werewolf, was right in the middle of gnawing on his own front paw last April when he'd sensed something most unusual.

It was the smell and the sounds of someone moving outside.

Remus would realize the next morning that it was the farmer next door, his nice old Muggle neighbor who let Remus borrow his books or come pick what he liked out of his garden, but this couldn't have meant less to the werewolf. When he had heard the man moving around outside, he had instantly gone into a bloodthirsty rage, slamming into the door and growling. Luckily, all the werewolf accomplished was having the farmer hear all the noise he was making, and his wolfish senses could hear him running off in a hurry. The wolf was then so furious with himself for letting his prey get away from him that he'd slashed at his own muzzle and bled for several hours until the moon had descended past the horizon again. Remus turned back into a boy at the moment the moon's light no longer reached him, and he found himself crying in pain until his mother had come to unlock the door.

The next morning, the farmer came by to say that he had been out to check on his cows the previous evening, and he thought some sort of wild animal had snuck into their tool shed. Mr. Lupin had promised that he would go to check, and Remus listened from the next room, his face bandaged, and felt horribly guilty about wanting to attack the man—as well as extremely glad that he hadn't succeeded.

"Severus," Remus began again, recalling all of this, and suddenly he had that _urge_ again.

"What?"

No. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't understand. No one did. Only his parents didn't cringe at the sight of him, and even they were still afraid…

"OI! _Snivellus!_"

Remus looked around. At the end of the corridor, one of the compartments had been slid open, and the Potter boy and the boy named Sirius had come out, already dressed in their school robes. James, who had seemed so friendly earlier, had an evil look on his face. If Remus didn't know better, he thought that Sirius was egging him on to shout down the corridor at them, as he was cackling madly at his side.

"Ignore them," Severus said quietly, so that the two boys couldn't hear, and Remus' eyes flickered toward him. One of his hands was balled up into a fist, and what was left of the color in his face was turning red.

"What?" Sirius called out in a mocking tone, putting a hand up to his ear. "You say something, _Snivellus_? Couldn't hear you!"

Remus narrowed his eyes at him. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was bullying.

"Leave him alone," Remus said, bravely.

"What are you doing with him?" said James, acting quite surprised to see him there, but Sirius butted in, perhaps sensing that James was about to go soft. He was probably right, too—James suddenly resembled a deflated balloon.

"Alright there, kid?" Sirius asked, his gaze now on Remus. "Keeping to your own kind, with that nasty scarred-up nose of yours?"

"I'd keep away from Snivellus, if I were you," James added. His snobbish tone had come back. "Come sit in our compartment. Don't want to end up in Slytherin with _that_ ugly git."

"I don't want to end up in the House _you're_ going to be in, either," Remus said coolly. He racked his brain for a moment, trying to come up with a proper insult, and then settled on one. "If there's a house for arrogant little berks, I'm betting on that one."

"_We're_ going to be in _Gryffindor_," Sirius butted in, jabbing his thumb into his chest. "So you can shove it."

"I doubt it," said Severus softly. He was glaring at Sirius' as though everything was wrong in the world when someone like him had been blessed with good looks. "You're a Black. _You're_ going to be in Slytherin."

"Not likely," Sirius spat. "I've had enough of—"

The compartment that Remus and Severus were standing outside of slammed open, so neither of them heard Sirius finish his sentence. Lily had marched out of the compartment, now in her robes, and had her wand out and pointing at both black haired boys at the other side of the corridor.

"Both of you," she hissed. "You shut up about them."

"Why hello," said James, his voice changing once more. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Shut up," Lily repeated, her wand now fully pointed at him. "I've had enough of you, bullying my friends."

Remus' heart fluttered. _Friend_, did she say?

"And stop making Severus miserable!" Lily was shouting. "Find some other hobby!"

"Yeah, Sirius," James said, looking to his friend as though he hadn't anything to do with it. "Don't do it, she'll get mad."

"But we've only just picked up this particular hobby," explained Sirius. "Maybe you can try it out too, it's been quite fun so far."

"Ha ha," Lily said, stepping forward a bit, and both Severus and Remus stepped back in response. Remus did not know whether Lily knew any spells or not, but he did not want to find out by being on the receiving end of a hex. "You are just _too_ funny. Now, leave them alone and go back to your compartment. Don't you think about insulting any of us ever again."

"You're just a wet blanket," James was saying, sounding defeated, but Sirius went a bit further.

"Or you'll do what? Going to hurt us? You can't do magic, who are you trying to fool?"

"I will," Lily said, her nostrils flaring. She looked pretty even when she was mad. "I will soon enough."

"Tell us when that is then," Sirius told her, faking a yawn. "I'll—"

Someone had just slid open their door. A small head with mousy hair poked out of his compartment, looking a little frightened, and he said, "is someone fighting out here?" just as Lily Evans stormed up the corridor, pulled her arm back, and slammed her fist into Sirius' face.

"_Argh!_"

The mousy haired boy gave a little squeak and disappeared back into his compartment. James shouted. Lily was massaging her knuckles, and Remus and Severus were looking at each other, dumbfounded.

"Brilliant," said Severus.

"Wicked," said Remus, his mouth open slightly.

"Thank you," Lily answered, giving them a nod, but then she turned back to Sirius. He was experiencing a heavy nosebleed, but as much as he howled, it didn't look at though she'd broken his nose—all that was different was that he now had a purple lump on the side of his face. "That'll remind you to watch your manners. I hope you rather like your new look. An ugly face fits your ugly personality better, I think. Now get away from us."

"Having an ugly face means I could qualify to be one your stupid friends though, wouldn't it?" Sirius growled at her, bleeding into his hand, but James pushed him back into the compartment before Lily could react, muttering something about having some ice in his trunk that had been keeping his lunch cool.

"Thanks, Lily," Severus mumbled as she came to join them again. Remus smiled at her while making a mental note to avoid making her mad.

"You don't think I'll get in trouble for that, will I?" Lily asked. She was apparently the kind of girl who punched first and asked if she'd get a detention later.

"Probably not," Severus said, glancing down the corridor. "They wouldn't tell on you anyway. It'll hurt their egos to have to tell someone that one of them was just punched in the face by a girl."

Both Remus and Lily laughed at this, and Severus seemed pleased that they thought it was funny.

A little bit later, a voice coming from no apparent source wafted down the length of the train, telling students that they had ten minutes before the Hogwarts Express had reached their destination. Both boys jumped and Lily told them that she would wait outside as they changed.

Inside the compartment, Remus and Severus were facing different directions as they took off their Muggle clothing and changed into their uniforms. Remus happened to look out the window to see a clearing in the forest outside—he saw an enormous willow tree swaying in the distance, and, his heart sinking a little bit after the pleasure of seeing Sirius get socked in the nose, he thought he knew why it was there.

--

--

AN: I hope all of this is not blowing your minds at this point, haha. I have this bizarre picture of how everyone's relationships started out when they met, but trust me, this isn't going to end up being some alternate reality where Lupin, Snape and Lily become great friends and skip through flowery meadows holding hands and chase butterflies.

Thanks for the reviews so far!


	4. Year 1, Autumn: Choice

**IV. Choice**

The train had slowed to a stop, and a voice reminded the occupants of the train that they should leave their luggage on board, because their things would taken up to the castle by magic. Remus was happy that he didn't have to drag both his and Andromeda's trunks up to the castle, because she still hadn't come back. Perhaps she hadn't realized that she would have to be gone quite so long.

As everyone began filing out of their compartments and into the corridor, Remus began wishing he hadn't eaten quite so many sweets earlier. His stomach felt unsettled from nerves, and he looked to his companions, hoping he wasn't the only one. Sure enough, Lily was looking faint with terror, and Severus' breathing had gone shallow.

The three of them stepped off the train, surrounded by other students, most of them towering over their heads. They were confused by what to do until Remus heard someone calling, "Firs' years! Firs' years!" and he pointed in the direction that it was coming from.

A trembling lot of first years had all gathered around an enormous man that none of them could stop staring at. He seemed young, but he was still much taller than anyone Remus had ever seen in his life.

"Is that a giant?" Lily hissed to Severus.

"Can't be," he answered, but he seemed unsure.

The huge man set off down a path at a brisk pace once he believed that all the first years had converged around him, and all fifty terrified witches and wizards scurried along behind him, struggling to keep up. Then, the path came to an abrupt end when they reached a body of water, and the giant instructed all of them in a thick accent to clamber into little boats that were all along the edge of the lake. The first years silently stumbled off towards them, and Remus looked up—he could see the outline of a gigantic castle off in the distance.

"C'mon," Severus muttered, and Remus tore his eyes away from the castle long enough to follow him and Lily into an unoccupied boat. Remus had just sat down when the mousy haired boy from the train joined them, looking as though he would have rather been in any other boat than the one that Lily was in, but all the others were already filled up.

"Hi," said Lily, trying to be nice, but the boy just shrunk back in fear. Remus looked at him pityingly.

The giant, seeing that everyone had found themselves a boat, shouted to them all to move at once, and Lily screamed again when the oars got up at their own accord and began to row. The little boats moved in formation across the lake, and while Severus stuck his hand into the steely water, seeing the rippling effect it made to the surface of the lake, Remus was looking up again, this time in the direction of the willow tree he'd seen earlier. It strangely reminded him of a guard dog, ready to attack.

"Whoa! Stop!"

The boats paused for a moment, and the first years twisted around wildly, trying to see what the problem was.

"Over there!" said Severus, excitedly, and he pointed over to where one of the boats had been impeded in its progress by a giant tentacle, risen out of the water. One of the first years in the boat that had been stopped screamed as the tentacle moved closer and curiously prodded her head.

"He's jus' tryin' to say hello!" said the giant, looking jovial. "Go on, give 'im a shake!"

None of the four first years in the boat seemed eager to do this, but then a black wizard stood up, his face set. The same girl who had screamed cried out, "don't do it, Kingsley!" but he had already grabbed the end of the tentacle and given it an awkward handshake.

"Wotcher?" said Kingsley, hesitantly, and the tentacle waved at the first years before sinking back under the water.

"Off we go!" said the man, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and the boats took off again. Remus looked over at Lily, smiling slightly, and Lily smiled weakly in return.

The first years all reached the other side of the lake at the same time. They slipped a little as they climbed up the sloping edge of the lake, which was covered in smooth pebbles. They were in a sort of underground harbor, and the first years were quickly led across the passageway and up to a door at the top of stone steps, where a professor brought them inside and had them wait for the Sorting process to begin.

"Sorting?" Lily said, repeating the words of the severe looking witch who had led them in. "_Sorting_? What does she mean, _Sorting_?"

"They choose what House you're going to be in," Remus said, but he wished Severus would tell her, because his heart was about to give out. The mousy haired boy who had stuck with them faithfully ever since they'd gotten out of the boat stood behind him and gaped at everything with wide eyes.

"The Sorting Hat," Severus told them with a bit of a sneer, and Remus was rattled by how obviously happy he was to show off his knowledge of Hogwarts. "They'll call us up, one by one, and then—"

The witch that had led them in had returned, and with a sniff, she beckoned the first years to follow her. They got into a single file line, Severus leading Lily and Remus, but, to Remus' dismay, he suddenly was jostled by someone who slid in between himself and Lily.

"Evening," Sirius said to him, the side of his mouth twitching as though he was struggling to hide a laugh. He was looking at Remus' scars with a smug expression. "I see we meet once again. It must be destiny."

Sirius was obviously trying to redeem himself from the disaster on the train. James' mother must have packed a sort of magical ice into his lunch that didn't melt, because the bruise on his cheek had disappeared.

"You've got a bit of dried blood under your nose," Remus told him smartly.

"I don't believe you," he said, but wiped at his lip anyway.

"Hello there," Lily said suddenly, turning her head. "I thought I heard your voice. Funny, I didn't think you'd be asking me to hit you again so soon."

Sirius looked as though he would have liked to have answered with something rude, but they had entered the Great Hall now, and Sirius slid behind Potter instead. Of course, this didn't do much to separate them, as James was standing right behind Remus. Remus sighed—he was now being followed by both of his current candidates for the person he hated the most.

"Hullo," James whispered softly.

Remus didn't answer. He decided to look around the Great Hall instead, which was as magnificent as it was gigantic. There were four long tables at which sat the Hogwarts students, and candles floated above their heads. Remus glanced up to see that the ceiling must have been enchanted, because it looked like they'd walked right outdoors again.

The severe looking witch set a very dirty hat on top of a stool before the High Table, and Remus supposed this was supposed to be the Sorting Hat. Once the hat's song had been sung, everyone applauded, and Lily, ahead of Remus, seemed to have lost all of her nerve again. At least she now knew that the Sorting Hat wasn't going to ask very much of them.

The Sorting began as the witch came forward again with a long piece of parchment. The first years all shook together as their names were called in alphabetical order, and three people had already been sorted before any of the names sounded familiar to Remus.

"Black, Sirius!"

The Slytherins already had their hands together, preparing to start clapping when he would join their table. Remus watched Sirius shift out of line, and he was amazed that he could feel sorry for him. He had wanted to be in Gryffindor so badly, but he really had no choice. This sort of thing ran in families, and it was not, as Andromeda might put it, a matter of getting into your preferred House out of sheer stubbornness.

Come to think of it, Andromeda was standing up at the end of the Slytherin table, looking proudly at her cousin. Beside her, sitting down, was a pretentious looking white-blond boy who had a prefect badge. Looking down the Slytherin table, many of them looked the same as him—all very rich and certainly not like nice people. Worst of all, a lot of them looked far too similar, like a long time ago, all of them had come from the same Wizarding family.

Sirius was glancing nervously at the Slytherin table, looking as green as their ties, before the witch placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

They were kept waiting for a long time, and the very old wizard at the High Table that can't have been anyone but Professor Dumbledore leaned forward in his seat, looking extremely amused. Remus had already noticed that some people took longer to decide upon than others, but after a good thirty seconds had passed, everyone was shifting in their seats uncomfortably, because so far, it had never taken the hat so long to decide. The Sorting Hat's mouth ripped open for a moment, as though about to announce something to the hall, but then it closed it again, its mouth crinkled with puzzlement. The Slytherins were fooled—the white-blond boy even put his hands together once before realizing that the hat hadn't said anything.

Silence ensued for several more thoughtful seconds, in which James was muttering under his breath and had his crossed fingers poking into Remus' back, and then—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius practically fell off the stool. Several Slytherin jaws had fallen open, and Andromeda gasped loudly before slapping her hands over her mouth. The white-blond boy looked like he was muttering himself that this was all a trick as Sirius seemed to remember what he was supposed to do. He stagged toward the Gryffindor table like his limbs weren't working properly anymore.

Instead of the usual polite applause, there was even more silence for a moment, and then scattered clapping broke out, with Andromeda being the only one that applauded properly. Remus looked around wildly—the Slytherins, even those whose mouths remained shut, all looked like they'd been slapped in the face, and the Gryffindors looks scandalized, as though an intruder had just broken through their defenses. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, on the left and right of the line of first years, had their eyes darting back and forth between the tables on either end of the room as though they weren't sure what was going on. Professor Dumbledore was smiling broadly at he settled back into his chair, but the rest of the professors were blinking very rapidly.

The next student was called up, which took most people's mind off of what had just happened, but there was still whispering in the hall clear until "Evans, Lily" was called.

Lily stumbled out of line and quivered the entire way up to the stool. When the witch put the hat on her head as well, it didn't take any time at all for the hat to shout, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Severus let out a low groan as Lily looked back and gave him a sad looking smile. She went to join the Gryffindors, where Sirius Black was looking very pale—he might have died and come back since without Remus noticing, in fact, because he looked just about that ghostly at the moment. When Sirius saw her coming, he moved down the bench to make room for her though, and Lily glared at him and folded her arms before staring determinedly the other way.

It was Remus' turn before long. He looked to the Ravenclaw table as we went up, thinking that they didn't look half bad, and perhaps some of the first years that had already been sorted into Ravenclaw House would be friendly with him. Remus sat down on the stool, and the stern looking witch gave him a look that implied she knew Remus' story quite well before dropping the hat onto his head.

The Sorting Hat fell over Remus' eyes, obscuring the Great Hall and the attentive faces of the student body from view. Perhaps they were waiting for another surprise.

"Ah," a voice mused in his ear. "A werewolf, eh? The very first at Hogwarts, you know! Lucky child, you are… though two minds in one will certainly make this difficult…"

Remus panicked as he imagined for a moment that everyone in the Great Hall had just heard this, but then he reminded himself that he'd never heard what the hat had to say before, so this was probably not so.

"Oh no, I'd never tell your secrets, boy, don't worry…"

Remus was a bit startled by the fact that the hat was reading his thoughts, but then again, it made sense, because the hat was supposed to be examining his mind in order to choose a proper House for him. So, Remus tried again.

_I don't want to be in Slytherin_, Remus thought as loud as he could, though he'd never tried to think loudly before. Even if Severus ended up in it, he had a feeling that the Slytherins would never accept him.

"Of course not," said the hat. "You simply wouldn't belong there, would you now? Hm… Ravenclaw? Or Gryffindor…?"

Remus didn't really care either way. He was smart, he knew that… he was always reading, always solving puzzles, always keeping himself busy on the floor with a mind teaser. He was also never quite satisfied unless he was imagining the next big task he could potentially take on, like designing another tree house he could never build because his parents didn't trust him being with a hammer or more than a meter off the ground. He loved these sort of things, or else he wouldn't do them all the time, of course. And he'd been raised to be polite and intelligent and neat so that he'd grow up to be a respectable person, and—

No.

He'd only done those things because maybe those sorts of behaviors would stamp the werewolf out of him.

He'd only read and done boring things his entire life because everyone was frightened of him.

He'd only kept to himself because he had no friends, no companions, no playmates that would ever accept him for who he was.

He wasn't even allowed them, and no one liked him beside from his scared mum and dad, and even they had kept him miserable for seven years of his life. He had made friends in less than a day without them and their stupid fears, so to hell with being lonely, to hell with being afraid, to hell with werewolves, because he wasn't one right now, he was a little boy who just desperately, desperately—

_I want to have friends_, he announced in his thoughts. _More than anything, I want to have friends._

"A fine choice," said the hat, and then it cried loudly to the Great Hall at last, "GRYFFINDOR!"

--

--

AN: Reviews validate my existence. Thanks again for reading.


	5. Year 1, Autumn: The Divide

**V. The Divide**

As he lifted the Sorting Hat from his head, Remus could feel his eyes streaming. The Gryffindors were cheering enthusiastically, though maybe most of it was just his imagination, and he felt as though he had just experienced some sort of epiphany, or even enlightenment. Before moving away to join his fellow Gryffindors, he turned his head towards the High Table where he saw Professor Dumbledore, who nodded to him, looking pleased.

Remus practically skipped towards the bench to sit with Lily. She had a broad smile on her face and told him, "that took nearly as long as it took for _him_!"

She gestured towards Sirius, who still looked like a ghost.

"What'd it say to you?" Lily went on happily, looking like she didn't realize she was asking a rather personal question. "The hat said to me, 'what a courageous young girl!' or something like that but that was all. I think it knew I punched _him_—" she gestured again— "on the train."

"It didn't say anything I didn't already know," Remus said truthfully, and the two of them turned their eyes on the line, where Severus and James stood, and no longer had anyone separating them.

Once the witch had gotten to the last names that started with 'P', the line of first years had gotten significantly smaller. Right before James, a boy named Peter Pettigrew—who was the boy with mousy hair who had been in the boat with them—was sorted into Gryffindor, and sat down next to Remus and shook their hands, though it was more like he didn't bother to actually shake because his arm was quaking so much already that it was unnecessary. Then James went up to the stool, and Lily let out a wail of disgust when the Sorting Hat put him into Gryffindor as well.

"Well done, mate," James was saying as he slid right past Lily, pretending like she wasn't there. He had directed what he'd said at Sirius, but Sirius only nodded grimly before James sat down on the other side of him..

"You… _did_ want to be in Gryffindor, didn't you?" asked James, cocking his head. Maybe he was concerned that all the praying he had done behind Remus had worked, and that now Sirius was having seconds thoughts.

"I didn't—I didn't really think that it'd happen!" Sirius answered croakily.

"Me neither," Lily said under her breath, but Remus and Lily's snickers were cut short when they noticed that "Snape, Severus" was about to be sorted as well.

"Gryffindor, Gryffindor," Lily was chanting, as though her prayers would work as well as James'.

"He's going to be in Slytherin," James said dully, and a mere second after he'd muttered it, the Sorting Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

"YOU JINXED HIM!" Lily roared.

"Lily," Remus said seriously, "I don't think you can just _say_ something and it'll happen…"

He realized he'd just suggested there was no such thing as magic.

"He's waving his wand under the table then," Lily said, and she ducked underneath to check, but James put his hands up in the air.

"Nope," he said, grinning, "just luck."

Severus, while it didn't come as a surprise to anyone, seemed a little upset to have sorted into Slytherin, while both Remus and Lily had gone to Gryffindor. Remus watched over the head of a fourth year as Severus went to sit down, and the white-haired prefect patted him on the back.

Finally, a girl whose last name started with 'Y' was sorted into Hufflepuff, and the witch took the stool and Sorting Hat away. Professor Dumbledore stood up, said a few words of welcome, and then to the surprise of nearly all the first years, mounds of food of every sort appeared in great piles at each of the House tables. Remus, suddenly feeling hungry again now that his nerves had died down, boldly tried a little of everything that his parents had never let him have, which meant that he took extra helpings of chips in particular.

"Ah, grease," James said, biting into a sausage. "Nothing like it."

Sirius was eating with less gusto as the others, and something told Remus that he probably ate banquets like this all the time, if he was a Black. The other Gryffindors seemed to be noticing, because they gave Sirius sideways looks and wore expressions that said they believed that anyone in Gryffindor House that refused to dig in heartily when presented with a good meal was going to be shunned to no end.

"Mum would never let me eat like this," Lily said, and she seemed quite thrilled to have gravy all over her mouth. "She's a neat freak."

"Are all Muggles like that?" Remus asked, trying to make it sound inoffensive.

"Oh no," she said with a giggle. "Just my Mum. Petunia's like that too—"

She stopped herself from saying what she was going on about, and Remus frowned slightly.

"Who's Petunia?"

"My sister," Lily said softly, and she noticed that Remus was now looking all over for a girl that was perhaps related to her. "No, she's a Muggle. Even if she wasn't, you'd never figure out who she was, she doesn't look a thing like me…"

"Is that who 'Tuney' is?" James said around a mouth of potatoes. "The girl who hates you right now?"

"I'm not talking to you," she said nastily. "Why are you listening in on our conversation?"

"We Gryffindors have got to stick together," James said, after swallowing and moving on to cutting apart his steak. "All for one and one for all and all of that other brave sounding stuff that's full of high adventure, you know…"

Sirius laughed, which sounded more like a dog barking, and Lily looked deeply disgusted at the two of them. Remus, however, thought that it was too bad that she and her sister evidently weren't very friendly with each other, because Remus always had half-wished he had a sibling.

After a bit more talking, or ignoring, as far as Lily was concerned, and the first years had requested Nearly Headless Nick to show them why he was nearly headless, the food disappeared from everyone's plates, and desserts appeared in their place. This gave Remus an even more tempting chance to do everything he wasn't supposed to, and he reached for anything with chocolate in it.

"I bet Snivellus is going for the doughnuts over there," Sirius said, helping himself to a slice of apple pie and finally gaining back his charming way of insulting everyone. "He could hang one on his nose, I s'pect?"

"That's exactly how it gets so oily," James said sagely, and as Lily leaned over to hit Sirius some more—he complained loudly that she'd already given him enough bruises already—Remus turned around, horrified by the fact that he'd forgotten about Severus already. But, when Remus finally caught sight of Severus again, he appeared to be talking to the prefect next to him and wasn't concerned with what was happening at the Gryffindor at all. Remus thought guiltily that perhaps Severus had been trying to catch their attention for as long as they had been eating, and he'd given up already.

At long last, after everyone at the Gryffindor table must have gained five pounds, the desserts disappeared as well. Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, ready to make some announcements. The Great Hall fell silent.

Remus listened, but only distantly at best. He was hearing things about not using magic between classes, not going into the Forbidden Forest, and how Quidditch tryouts would be beginning with a few weeks (James was saying, "Damn, if only first years could play—"). He was feeling rather sleepy, now that he'd eaten, and the wolfish side of him wanted to go curl up and go to sleep, right then and there…

"And finally," Dumbledore said, "there has been a new tree planted on Hogwarts Grounds, appropriately named the Whomping Willow. While you will not be required to go near it at any time during the school year, please mind that you stay outside of it's reach if you choose to be in the surrounding area, or you may end up in the Hospital Wing."

The explanation ended there, and several students looked at each other, as though they were all thinking, _why have they planted it then?_

"Very well then!" Dumbledore cried. "Off to bed now, all of you, everyone has an exciting day in store tomorrow, I'm sure…"

The benches groaned as the Gryffindor students stood up and were led down the Great Hall by the prefects. Sirius and James were laughing again somewhere up ahead, and Lily rolled her eyes. Remus was in the very back of the group, yawning widely.

"You there… first year."

Someone had tapped Remus on the shoulder. He stopped and turned around, his robes whipping about his ankles. Right as Gryffindor had been about to exit the Great Hall, the front of the Slytherin students had run into them.

"Hello," said the prefect at the front gently, having the Slytherins pause behind him, and Andromeda kept walking forward, unaware that he had done it. It was the white-haired prefect that had patted Severus on the back earlier, and sure enough, Severus was standing at his side. Remus tried giving him a small grin, but Severus did not look at him kindly. Remus' smile slipped into a frown.

"So, welcome to Hogwarts," the prefect went on, sneering, and Remus looked confused, as well as the majority of Slytherin House. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking here… big windows, too… you can see the moon quite clearly on most nights…"

"Lucius," Andromeda was calling, backtracking a bit, "what are you doing?"

"Just saying hello to a first year," the prefect said quickly, and he began to move again, the other Slytherins following and shooting Remus puzzled looks. When Severus passed, his eyes narrowed.

The Slytherins disappeared down the hall, and Remus rushed up the stairs to find his fellow Gryffindors again. His mind didn't stop racing long after he'd caught up—how much did that prefect know? _How_ could he have known? _What had he told to Severus_…?

"Where were you?" Lily asked, upon spotting Remus.

"Got lost, I'm terrible with directions," he lied immediately, and he was glad that no one else seemed to have noticed his absence. Remus fell into step with the rest of the group, still looking worried, and Lily reached out and took his hand.

"Stick with me then," Lily said, smiling, and Remus gave her hand a squeeze. He breathed hard, hoping against hope that the prefect was just bluffing that he knew.

Once in the common room, no one seemed intent on staying up or even pausing to look around at their new surroundings. Everyone instead opted to head off to their dormitories, yawning and dragging their feet, as if the Sorting had required them all to run laps to determine their Houses. Lily went up to the girls' dormitory on the right after saying goodbye, and the boys went up the dormitory on the left. On the very top floor, Remus found his bed along with the others that belonging to the first year Gryffindors. His bed was made up with red and gold blankets, and his was trunk at the foot of it. Seeing the bed there, just for him, somehow made the experience all the more real—it was as if he was really allowed here after all, and a place had been made for him.

"Nice set up we have here," said James approvingly, and he reached over to grab Remus and Sirius with one arm, squashing them together, and because his other arm was empty, he happened to grab Peter Pettigrew also. "Well! We Gryffindors are going to be best friends, I can just tell."

The two other Gryffindor boys who hadn't been involved in the hug looked to each other, and then went back to unpacking their nightclothes.

"If my Mum doesn't murder me first," Sirius muttered, "I'm all for it."

"We're never going to be friends," Remus said irritably.

"I'm tired," yawned Peter.

"I can feel the love already," James said, releasing them, and Remus went over to his trunk, bent down, and opened it. Right on top of his neatly folded flannel pajamas was a note, written in handwriting that he did not recognize.

_Mr. Lupin—_

_Madam Pomfrey requests to see you, first thing in the morning, to discuss an obvious matter. Good evening._

Remus looked up from his trunk, where he could see James Potter humming to himself as he removed his glasses, like some sort of eccentric that actually enjoyed making a fool of himself. Sirius Black sat on his bed_—_a bed that was probably a fourth of the size of the one he had at home_—_and stared at his ceiling, perhaps pondering how much time he had left. Peter Pettigrew seemed to have already fallen asleep, judging by his light snoring.

Remus crumpled the letter in his fist. He hoped that these idiots in particular never _ever_ found out his secret.

--

--

AN: Man I love dramatic irony. n_n

Alright, brief explanation. The whole reason why I had Snape and Lupin briefly getting along was because I thought that this would have fueled Snape's interest in Lupin's absences at the full moon. Also, Snape saves Lupin's life in Death Hallows, and I guess I'm trying to justify that in my own way.

Why then, you ask, is Lupin friends with Lily? Well, Rowling has said that Lupin was "very fond of Lily" ... though she also mentioned that he never tried to compete with James for her. (That'd be what spawned the whole fourth year fiasco! :D)

Please stick around, there's more Marauder fun ahead. Some chapters are funny, some somber, but I hope you'll like what I've written. Reviews would be very nice indeed.


	6. Year 1, Spring: Birthday

**I. Birthday**

_On the day that Remus J. Lupin had turned eleven, a most peculiar thing happened: there was the sound of an owl's sharp tapping on a window, right after he'd finished his porridge, and Mr. Lupin shot out of his seat to go relieve the owl of its letter, disbelief all over his face. Mrs. Lupin had jumped up from her chair a moment later to join her husband, and after hearing some quite clearly excited voices coming from the front room, Remus had to lean to almost a ninety degree angle in his seat to see what was going on down the hall._

_"Remus, Remus, come here!"_

_Remus pushed back his chair and came at once. When he walked around the corner, he saw that his mother had burst into tears, and his father was holding the letter like it was something very precious._

_"Remus," Mr. Lupin said, "this is your acceptance letter to Hogwarts."_

_Both Mr. and Mrs. Lupin looked at Remus as though expecting him to start jumping up and down, but Remus only stared._

_"Hog-whats?" he asked._

_"Oh, that's right!" sobbed Mrs. Lupin, and she came forward and threw her arms around him. "Oh honey, we didn't want to get your hopes up… we never told you!"_

_"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," explained Mr. Lupin kindly. "It's the school where both your mother and I learned how to do magic."_

_"It's a school?" Remus asked, frowning. His parents had been telling him for at least a year now that they would soon be teaching him how to use a wand at home, but he'd never known there was supposed to be a school for it._

_"Yes. It's a school for witches and wizards… most children get a letter on their eleventh birthday, and—Remus, we've been trying so hard to get the school board to accept you despite—despite, well, your problem, Remus—"_

_"But Professor Dumbledore—he's the new headmaster—he stuck up for you!" Mrs. Lupin cried. "You're allowed to go! He says that he'll make it completely safe for you to go, and that the staff is very understanding! This is so wonderful!"_

_"Yes, and you'll be going off to Hogwarts beginning on September 1st of this year," said Mr. Lupin, joyfully. "Isn't it great?"_

_His parents were both extremely happy for him, and Remus had smiled, but it was a frozen smile. He felt, at the time, that he'd only barely gotten over the shock of being an age with two digits, and all of a sudden, after spending his entire life in a little house in the country, he was going to be thrust into an entirely new situation, as far away from his parents as he'd ever been in his life._

_At first, Remus had not been looking forward to attending Hogwarts._

--

It was now the tenth of March, and good weather seemed to have suddenly returned to the Hogwarts grounds after two months of snow and frostbitten hands. While pretty much everyone was happy about this, it also meant that the professors were now in better spirits, and gaily gave twice the homework as they had before. It was a good thing that Remus rather enjoyed doing schoolwork, or it would have been unbearable.

Remus was twelve years old as of today, so a full year had passed since he'd received his letter, telling him he could come to Hogwarts. He was sure that a birthday would be a big to-do for some people, but his birthdays had never been much of a reason to celebrate, and this year had certainly not broken the tradition. The only way today was different from any other was that he had woken up with a small pile of presents at his bedside table, and some of the first year boys had wished him a happy birthday when they realized what they were there for. From his parents, he'd received new clothes for the warm months ahead and some additional spending money. He also unwrapped a fancy telescope from a rich aunt who seemed sympathetic and yet too afraid to meet him in person, and a box of chocolates from Lily Evans.

Once he'd opened his gifts and stared at his birthday cards for a few moments, he'd put them away and gone downstairs to finish up his homework. After all, it was Sunday, and classes would begin again tomorrow.

Aside from now being twelve, Remus had brown hair, brown eyes, a small stature, a face with half-healed scars, and a lycanthropy problem. Every full moon, that now-twelve-year-old-body of his would begin to change into a fearsome beast that preyed upon human beings—in other words, he was a werewolf, and no one would have thought that Remus could have ever attended Hogwarts with this affliction, but that had changed when Professor Dumbledore became headmaster. He had arranged it so that the students and staff would be safe, and now, for the first time in its history, a werewolf had come to Hogwarts.

Of course, for the majority of each lunar cycle, Remus was just an average first year. He had discovered thus far that he was clearly not cut out for broomstick riding—his first attempt had been disastrous—but he enjoyed all of his classes, and learning how to do new things with his wand, and after his first spell of homesickness and sleepless nights, he was beginning to like not being looked after quite so closely. Sadly, this happy side of his experience at Hogwarts was only half of the story. Remus was still, after six months, struggling with his social life.

He knew that making friends wasn't going to be easy for someone who never had one his whole life, but he wished that at least people wouldn't take just one look at him and quickly try to move away. He still had faint scars of his face from an unfortunate accident last summer, and he always had quite a few new scratches after the full moon had waned, but he had a feeling that this alone wasn't what made people avoid him.

Rumors were circulating around the school, this was for certain. More and more people seemed to realize who he was with each passing day, and a few weeks ago, Severus Snape had stopped talking to him entirely. Maybe Lucius Malfoy—the Slytherin fifth year that seemed hell-bent on destroying him for whatever reason—was the one fueling the rumors, but no one seemed to be whispering a consistent story, so maybe he had only given people a sort of vague warning.

Regardless of what he'd done, he had succeeded in making Remus feel depressed, at least. To be noticed and yet purposefully ignored at the same time… that basically made him an outcast, didn't it?

The only person who remained the ever-friendly companion to Remus was the Muggle-born Lily Evans, who was a very pretty redhead, but a little odd in her own way. She was liked fairly well, but everyone knew about Lily's humorous tendency to sock anyone that made her mad, so people made sure to stay well away from her if she even showed the slightest hint of anger. Lily spoke feverishly about her sister Petunia and her Muggle family, and she entertained Remus by telling him about the way that she lived at home, without magic.

These conversations, however, were never one-sided: every time that Lily would rave about toasters and Muggle music, Remus would tell her about the Wizarding world that she was now a part of. Lily seemed to love his stories about magical creatures like leprechauns and unicorns especially, which she had only ever heard about in Muggle fairytales.

But as fun as Lily was, she could not possibly devote all of her time to Remus. After all, Lily had her own, separate friends, and her spell work to practice, so Remus remained lonely more often than not, and he unfortunately began to feel as if this was honestly the way it ought to be. After all, there was a familiar passage in his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook where werewolves were described as dangerous creatures that were not fit to associate with wizards—and every time he found himself roaming Hogwarts without a soul at his side, he began to believe it a little more.

He knew he was indeed taking one step forward and two steps back as far as this whole 'interaction with other human beings' business was going, but he just couldn't help it, and in these six months he had sadly sunk into a dull, aching state of misery.

Today, Remus had his face hovering above another roll of parchment, writing a short essay for Transfiguration. The common room was empty, but someone had left the window open, which was letting in an enticing breeze of warm air that had apparently forced the rest of the Gryffindors to resign themselves to going outside and having as much fun as they could possibly muster. Remus had chosen to ignore it.

"Remus, do you remember what you'd use snake fangs for?"

Lily had come down from the girls' dormitory, holding a review sheet in her hands. Remus was surprised that she had not gone with everyone else, but then again, Lily was not the average, lackadaisical student.

"Er," Remus answered. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember what exactly it was that Professor Slughorn had written on the board when they had first used snake fangs toward the beginning of the year. "I… think they're used in a lot of remedies, like for curing boils, but I might be thinking of horned toads. I need to look that up myself when I get to it."

"That doesn't make much sense though," said Lily. "Wouldn't snake fangs be used in poisons?"

"Maybe they are," Remus said, shrugging, but he was almost certain that it was the other way around.

Lily gave her review sheet another look and rolled up the parchment.

"It wouldn't be listed in _1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi_, so I guess I'll just make a trip to the library. I wanted to return a book anyway. Happy Birthday again, Remus."

"Thanks," Remus responded sulkily, and Lily went off the other direction, her curly hair bouncing on her shoulders. Remus watched her climb through the portrait hole as though she was doing it in slow motion, and then he turned to the window and sighed. He wished that he could have the luxury of putting his books down and go hang out with amazingly cool friends—but alas, he was rather short on cool people to associate with.

"I'm pretty sure you were right about the snake fangs."

Another person had not gone outside, and he was the mousy-haired and rather awkward Peter Pettigrew. He stood there with a rather mousy look on his face, too, his exceptionally pointed nose twitching in the direction that Lily had gone.

"Don't do that!" Remus sputtered, and he straightened back up after nearly falling out of his seat. There was something about having an enormous secret weighing on his mind at all times that made him a bit jumpy.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, and he turned to look at him. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Don't worry," Remus grumbled. Peter was one of those people who seemed to have a genetic disposition of not having friends, much like Remus. He also had a knack for suddenly appearing, because one moment, he almost blended into walls, and the next, he would suddenly pop into existence.

"Can I sit?" Peter asked, gesturing to an armchair next to the table.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Peter dropped into the chair and then gazed intently at Remus, who now looked sideways at the wall. Peter was friendly enough and always eager to talk, but Remus didn't particularly care to have anything to do with him.

"So, you seem to get along with Evans," commented Peter.

"Do you think that's strange?" Remus questioned.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "It's just… well, she's pretty popular."

"And?"

"I don't mean anything by that," Peter said vaguely, shaking his head. "It's just… what's she doing, hanging out with _him?_"

"What?" Remus asked. He was now extremely confused. "Who?"

"You know who I'm talking about. Severus Snape."

Remus frowned at him.

"Lily and Severus were friends before they came to Hogwarts," he said. He wasn't quite sure what Peter was trying to get at, but he wished he hadn't brought it up.

"Well!" said Peter, "How odd! Isn't Evans a _Muggle-born_? I wonder how they came to know each other. Really now… Evans and_ Snape!_ Muggle-borns don't often become friends with Slytherins, you see. Goes against the grain, I guess."

"I don't quite understand it myself. She spends more time with him than me, and they don't even seem like they get along—"

"Are you jealous of him, then?"

There was an uncomfortable silence before Remus bodily faced himself away from Peter.

"Did I go too far?"

Remus didn't answer.

"Ah, well, sorry. Didn't mean to offend you, I'm just trying to make sense of things. I'm not too smart, can't keep my mouth shut…"

"Peter," Remus grumbled impatiently, "was there something you wanted to tell me, or can I get back to—?"

"Well, er," Peter mumbled, twisting his hands. "Oh. That's right. James and Sirius told me that they were going to go dump a load of ink on the next person to pass down the fourth floor corridor," he said quickly.

Remus snapped his head back around.

"The library's on the fourth floor," he stated.

"That's true," Peter agreed. "I was thinking that we should probably go save Evans."

Remus had never thrown down a quill in a panic before, but then again, he had never been required to act so quickly before. Without a word, both boys bolted across of the Gryffindor common room, and after tumbling out of the portrait hole, they thundered down the corridor and then down the first flight of steps they could find. Peter ran sloppily, like a city boy who had never used his legs, but Remus hastened along like an animal, tearing down stairs and around corners with his now-twelve lungs fit to burst.

And that made him _happy_—he was reminded of just how much he loved to run. To run was to be free of all bounds, to be wild and uncontrolled…

"Oi!"

Peter managed to stumble past, but a hand had been flung out which, if Remus had kept running toward it at that speed, probably would have decapitated him.

He skidded to a stop and, after taking a moment to catch his breath, he realized Lucius Malfoy stood there with his nose in the air and his blond hair pulled back. Remus knew he was about to say much more to him than a telling off for running in the halls.

"Where are you off to, Mr. Lupin?"

"The library," Remus huffed in reply. It was difficult to sound calm while out of breath.

"And I'm sure there's a book in there worth the trouble of running to go get before it wanders away," Malfoy said, smoothly.

For a fifth year, Malfoy was extremely scary. He walked toward Remus, and Remus could do nothing but back away until the Slytherin prefect had cornered him against the statue of Boris the Bewildered. Malfoy leaned downward—there was a height difference of a little less than a meter between them—and he spoke in a voice that was just as soft as it was venomous.

"Listen, you little twat," he said, "don't think I don't know. You'd have to be an absolute fool to have connections like mine and not use them."

Remus bit his lip.

"Luckily for you," he sneered, "I have been forbidden to even speak a word to anyone what I know about you. Though I _have_ been telling my fellow Slytherins that you are quite dangerous for their own protection—we must take certain precautions, don't you agree?"

He seemed to want to provoke some sort of reaction out of him, but Remus said nothing.

"How do you manage it?" the prefect continued to hiss, though now he was even quieter. "The full moon will be coming soon, so what will you do? What if you bite someone? What has Professor Dumbledore to insure that there will not be any accidents? I will not keep quiet if you hurt someone…"

He paused and surveyed Remus carefully, who seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Malfoy breathed in deeply before taking a step backward and throwing his hair over the opposite shoulder.

"Fine then," he said, haughtily. "But let me remind you… you don't deserve to be here at this school. Dumbledore is an old fool who loves Muggles instead of his own kind… he seems to lack the basic principle of preserving Hogwarts as a school for wizards of noble blood. We Slytherins have tolerated the half-bloods until now, but it will change soon enough. When that time comes… it will be different."

Malfoy gave a brief, humorless laugh.

"There's no place for monsters at this school, Remus Lupin. Even Mudbloods are more welcome here than you are. Watch where you tread from now on—you will not smear filth across the good name of Hogwarts."

Malfoy turned like some sort of nightmarish shadow and went off in the direction of the East Wing. He disappeared like he'd never been there at all.

It took a while before Remus could move again, and even then, his legs felt like gelatin. He was afraid but, at the same time, he felt himself begin to rage and storm inside his chest.

He hated Malfoy. He was nothing short of a bully. He was the one that was making him unhappy. He was the one that was separating him from his peers. It was his fault!

But then again…

He drug himself back up and jogged the rest of the way to the library, knowing it was probably too late.

But then again, what sort of Gryffindor was he, if he was supposed to be brave, and yet he couldn't do anything about his miseries at all?

Happy Birthday, Remus Lupin…

--

--

AN: Why yes. Yes, I _did_ actually look up what statue might be located on the fifth floor, and as an extra tidbit, yes, Malfoy _is_ on the fifth floor because he'd been using the Prefect's bathroom.

Reviews are the rays of sunshine in my life.


	7. Year 1, Spring: Dirt and Dung

**II. Dirt and Dung**

_It was Peter Pettigrew's birthday, but that did not stop his parents from waking him up with the sound of their fighting downstairs._

_Peter rolled out of bed, rubbed groggily at his eyes, and was not at surprised to find an owl waiting just outside his bedroom window. He took the letter from the owl's talons and sent it off again._

_"Hogwarts," Peter said to himself, and threw it on top of his dresser. He would tell his parents later, assuming that one of them didn't—_

_A door slammed._

_Well. He would be telling his mother, in any case._

--

"Lily, you've still got ink on your nose."

"From yesterday? Seriously?"

She wiped at it.

As the first year Gryffindors next marched down the Hogwarts grounds to meet with the Hufflepuffs for Herbology, Lily scrunched up her nose and continued to rub it. It had turned out that James and Sirius had been poised to drench someone in ink on the fourth floor, but when they saw it was Lily, they'd run for it. The only reason why she had gotten any ink on her at all was because she'd chased after them, and an inkwell splattered her when it smashed onto the floor.

Lily looked rather confused when Remus announced that Peter Pettigrew would be his partner for Herbology today, but after all, Peter had proven over the course of the last twenty-four hours that he was an interesting person, and so, remarkably, Remus had made a new friend.

"You're sure?" Lily asked. She didn't seem to be upset, just a little surprised. "Well, okay. I'll work with Stebbins, then."

Lily wandered the other direction to one of her Hufflepuff friends, who gave a visible nod before they went down a few rows to find an empty table. Peter Pettigrew waved as he met with Remus, who smiled, and they found a table of their own.

"Good morning," Professor Sprout said to the class, and she came from further down the greenhouse with bags of seeds, and there were scattered replies of "good morning, Professor Sprout" as she began to pass them out to each pair of students.

"Now I hope you've all been practicing your Herbivicus charms?"

"Yes," the class chorused.

"Very good. Now, these are just regular flower seeds, and I want you all to plant them and water them in those trays over in the corner so that they're nice and cozy. Then use the charm to help them grow. I want to see lots of pretty flowers by the end of the period, everyone, so go on and get started!"

The entire class hurried to grab the supplies they needed. Remus and Peter worked pleasantly together, spreading soil onto their tray but finding the time to talk as well. The entire greenhouse filled up with happy conversation, and Professor Sprout went around the room, telling groups when they hadn't added enough earth or had managed to drown their seeds.

"You know, Lily's been spending a lot of time in the library," Peter was saying. He had dumped their earth a little too thickly onto their tray, so Remus busied himself with discreetly trying to scoop some away without drawing attention to himself. "Do you think she's getting an early start on exams?"

"I wouldn't think so," Remus reasoned. "Exams are still about three months off, and no one's crazy enough to start studying _now_."

Actually, Remus was fairly certain that Lily had been meeting up with Severus in the library, because that was the only place that they could speak without being bothered by some of Severus' creepier friends.

"But James tells me she's always in the library."

"Potter?" Remus questioned.

"Everyone, look here for just a moment!" Professor Sprout suddenly exclaimed. The first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs all popped their heads up to see what she was holding. In her arms was a perfectly level pan of rich earth, and for a moment, nothing seemed to be happening. Remus had to strain his neck until he suddenly saw a tiny shoot peeping out of the tray, and, a second later, a lead and stem. Then the once tiny flower had suddenly become very large, and it bloomed into a magnificent yellow blossom—a buttercup. The first years applauded as the plant continued to grow larger and larger until it came to a sudden halt at about a meter tall.

"Mr. Potter seems to have a side which also appreciates beauty, I suppose!" Professor Sprout said warmly, and Remus' eyes widened as he saw James Potter, the proud owner of the first successfully grown flower of the period, who was looking gloatingly about the greenhouse, with Sirius Black grinning behind him. Apparently those two would show off their abilities regardless of how manly they would look in the process.

"Five points to Gryffindor!" proclaimed the gleeful Professor Sprout, and she set the tray back down at their table. "Now, carry on everyone, and let's see more of these lovely—!"

"_HERBIVICUS_!"

The entire classroom jumped, for Lily Evans had just jabbed her wand into the tray in front of her and caused daisies to shoot about two meters into the air.

"Oh my," Professor Sprout said, and Lily spun around, glaring at James. The rest of the first years began to laugh at how easily she seemed to have beaten him, and this caused a chain reaction of larger and larger flowers of every type springing up all around the room, until the greenhouse had turned into a garden that reminded Remus of _Alice in Wonderland_. James Potter couldn't even be seen from his table anymore because the foliage was so thick.

"Like I was asking," Remus resumed, grinning a bit, "How does James know anything about Lily?"

"He knows a lot of things," said Peter, who was waving his wand at his seeds unsuccessfully. "He isn't an idiot, believe it or not. Also, James and Sirius have been in the library a lot lately. They've been doing… er… research."

"For what?" Remus asked.

"They've been doing research on the school," Peter said, quietly. "You know, trying to find out secrets and such. _Herbivicus_," he added, and prodded the soil with his wand, but nothing happened.

The bell rang across the grounds, and the first years stripped off their dragon-hide gloves, washed their hands, and marched back to the castle for lunch. Peter took off ahead of Remus to meet up with James and Sirius, so Remus purposefully lagged behind so that Lily could catch up to him, but there was no need. Lily, who had been the last one to leave the greenhouse, was now sprinting up the sloping lawn, not only catching up to Remus but passing him by with a swish of her robes.

"Oi!" Remus shouted after her, but now he could see why Lily seemed so anxious to hurry ahead of him. She had reached where James, Sirius and Peter were walking, and she grabbed James by the collar and was more of less strangling him with his own tie.

"You _arse_!" she yelled.

"Geroff me!" James shouted back, and he pushed her, causing her to stumble. The first year Gryffindors behind them looked onward as the two of them began to claw at each other just as Remus finally caught up, huffing.

"Stop, you'll get in trouble!" Peter was protesting, and he gave Remus a helpless look, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. Not only did Remus know he was incapable of stopping the fight by use of his wand, but he also was less than willing to step in and have his eyes scratched out. Even the onlookers were now choosing to get away, rather than stay and watch, as the fight escalated.

It in fact had stopped being a fight a while ago. It was more like James and Lily were simply trying to maul each other to death.

"Cut it out!" Sirius growled at last, and they froze with James' fist about to connect with Lily's stomach, and Lily poised to punch James in the throat. Lily was the first to come to her senses, and she retreated to Remus' side while James coolly brushed back his hair.

"Anyone care to tell me what the bloody hell that was about?" Sirius asked angrily. "You two were about ready to kill each other!"

"She attacked me, you saw," James defended. There was a large bruise below his eye, and he touched it gingerly to test how bad it was. "I wasn't doing anything, and she came up and attacked me for nothing!"

"Ha!" Lily said. Her face was bright with anger. "You're a liar and a cheat, Potter!"

Sirius looked at James, relatively serious, but then he laughed and said, "what'd you do this time?"

"Dunno what you're talking about," James said innocently.

"_Oh yes you do!_" Lily hissed. "I saw you do something before Professor Sprout looked! You tell us what you did!"

James glanced at Sirius before sighing. Peter was watching with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Alright, alright," James admitted. "I nicked a bit of mooncalf dung before the bell rang and mixed it in with the dirt before Professor Sprout saw me do Herbivicus. Happy?"

"No," Lily snorted.

"I'm surprised you knew about that stuff, though," Peter commented.

"Look," James said, pointing an accusatory finger at Lily and ignoring Peter all together, "I just needed a bit of leg up. I suck at Herbology, I kill every plant I touch, and I didn't want to get another bad mark. Who cares if I cheated a little?"

"Do you not have _any_ shame?"

"Nope," James said proudly, which caused Sirius to laugh again. "You shouldn't get your knickers in a bunch over it, Evans. I just don't feel like doing any extra practice for a stupid class."

"_Are you a Gryffindor or not?_" Lily shrieked, and Remus swiftly grabbed her arm as she was about to take another swing at him. "Professor Sprout gave you those points but you didn't deserve them at all! Gryffindors are supposed to be noble, not filthy cheaters!"

For someone who had only been a Gryffindor for a short time, Lily seemed to be fiercely proud of it, and was maybe more disgusted by the fact that James had disgraced Gryffindor House than by what he had actually done, and Remus admired her for it.

"Lily," Remus said quietly, "maybe you should just let it go."

"No!" Lily snapped.

"Let's be reasonable," Remus offered with a sigh. "Potter, if you've still got the dung, just hand it over. We'll give it back to Professor Sprout and tell her one of us picked it up by mistake."

James gave him a look like that would never work, but he reluctantly opened his bag and produced a small burlap sack. Remus stepped forward to take it, and he opened it to see if it was really mooncalf dung—he immediately wished he hadn't stuck his nose anywhere near the rancid contents of the bag.

"Th-that's definitely it," he said, eyes now watering. "Alright, let's go take this—"

"No!" Lily said again, shaking Remus' shoulder. "He's going to admit he's done something wrong or I'll report him! Don't be so nice! Potter, if you wanted to be a stupid cheat then you should—have—been—in—_Slytherin!_"

"What was that, Miss Evans?"

The five of them had long forgotten that other students were still out on the grounds, and the fifth year Slytherins had just come up to the castle from their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Lucius Malfoy, whose green and silver prefect badge flashed dangerously in the noon sunlight, was unfortunately leading their group.

"Er," said Lily. Her face had turned bright red.

"Typically, three points would be taken for such rude remarks," Malfoy said smoothly, and here he looked at the other Slytherins, who were shooting nasty looks at Lily. "But seeing as you're a Mudblood, let's make it five, shall we?"

The Slytherins all began laughing, and only three out of the group of first years reacted to what he'd just said—Remus, James, and Sirius protested in outrage, but Lily was looking around as though waiting for some sort of explanation as to what that meant, and for some reason, Peter didn't seem to have been fazed either.

"What's a Mudblood?" Lily asked, helplessly.

"She's _not_ a Mudblood, Malfoy," James growled.

"Yeah she is," murmured Sirius, though he didn't seem to approve of the word. "Evans is a Muggle-born."

"Is she _really_?" James said, suddenly amused. "Never would have guessed that in a million—"

"My dear Gryffindor friends," Malfoy sliced in coldly, "perhaps you didn't understand me."

"We understood you," Sirius said, with contempt. "But we also don't care what you say. None of us are afraid of you, you ugly git."

Remus took a nervous step backward—he felt quite the contrary.

"Your poor mother must be heartbroken," Malfoy began remorsefully, rounding on Sirius. "Why must you associate with such people? I really should keep a better watch on you, now that you have chosen this wayward path…"

"And I intend to stay on it, thank you," growled Sirius, and James smirked beside him. Remus grimaced. He wished that they weren't egging Malfoy on.

"Yeah," James declared boldly. "Leave us alone, Malfoy. None of us here care about stupid house points. You can't hurt us, I'd like to see you try!"

Everyone around him groaned.

"Hm," Malfoy said. "Then perhaps I will just..."

And then, as if a very bad nightmare had just turned into reality, Lucius Malfoy turned to Remus, knowing that he was the weakest of the group. Remus' skin turned icy, and the Slytherins watched with eleven sets of dark, cold eyes.

"Lupin, what's that you've got there?"

Remus shook, realizing that if the contents of the bag were found out, he would only have two options, each of them being unpleasant. He knew that mooncalf dung was valuable, and stealing was a serious offense at Hogwarts. If he was accused of having taken it, he could bet he should start packing his bags, and then he'd have a good story to tell his parents, especially when the words "I stole some manure" would inevitably come into the conversation. Conversely, if somehow managed to prove himself innocent, it would only be James being punished instead.

"Did you hear me?" Malfoy asked.

Remus could sense James panicking beside him. Perhaps he was certain he would be ratted out, but Remus wasn't about to do that. He'd take the blame, he decided, if he had to.

"Mr. Lupin," Malfoy warned. "You do realize that withholding information could result in a detention on its own?"

And even though Remus disliked James, he still didn't say anything.

"You better do what he says!" Peter squeaked, but Sirius stamped on his foot.

"Remus," Lily whispered urgently. "Say _something _or he'll—"

"Shut up, Mudblood," Malfoy said nastily, and that was all it took to cause Remus' blood to begin to boil. He didn't even know exactly why that was—perhaps because he cared deeply for Lily, or because Malfoy was such a narrow-minded biggot, or because he felt the influence of the full moon that would come in few days' time. But the reason didn't really matter. All Remus knew was that he was absolutely livid.

"Give it to me," Malfoy the Prefect snarled.

"Fine then," Remus said, forcing the bag out in front of him. "Take it."

And without further ado, he had opened the burlap sack, turned it upside down, and dumped the soupy contents into Malfoy's palm.

Malfoy's eyes went as large as saucers and his hair seemed to stand up on end—mooncalf dung was running down his sleeve and dripping onto the ground in sickening, smelly plops. A Slytherin beside him clapped a hand to her mouth and made an awful gagging noise.

"Lupin's done it now," Sirius said, in a panic, but there was a note of joy in his voice.

"_YOU_—!"

All five first-years turned around and ran for it. They streaked up the lawn without another thought, and Remus could hear shouts follow them clear until they had arrived in the Entrance Hall and someone hurried to shut the great oak doors behind them.

And even though he was short of breath and in a world of trouble, Remus collapsed against those oak doors and laughed like a madman.

--

--

AN: I feel sort of horrible for making James be dishonest like this.

… Oh wait, no I don't. xD

I stole the "Herbivicus" charm from one of the Harry Potter games. I'm pretty sure it's not actually canon… if it was, it'd be pretty useless.

Thank you for your continual support.


	8. Year 1, Spring: A New Direction

**III. A New Direction**

_When Lily Evans had turned eleven, she was not surprised to have received her letter at all, though her parents certainly were. Mrs. Evans fainted dead away when she heard her daughter was a witch, and Mr. Evans opened and closed his mouth several times before declaring it all to be a prank._

_"Oh no, it isn't a prank," said the cheery Ministry witch who had come to explain the Wizarding world to the Evans. "I could show you a bit of magic, if you like, to prove it to you."_

_And once the witch had turned one of their armchairs into a goat and then back again, Mr. and Mrs. Evans decided they believed her._

_"Oh, Lily, isn't this exciting?" Mrs. Evans had said, fanning herself, willing herself not to pass out again. "We always knew you were different… now we know why!"_

_"I already knew I was a witch, Mum," Lily admitted._

_"You _did?_ However did you know, dear?"_

_"That __boy told her!" snapped Petunia, from the corner. Her face had gone red from watching her little sister receiving all the attention._

_"What boy?" asked Mr. Evans, looking confused._

_"Just a wizard boy," Lily grumbled, and shot her sister a look that silenced her._

--

Professor McGonagall placed an envelope with a wax seal into Remus' hands during breakfast and stalked off without speaking to him. Remus gazed down at the envelope as though he had just received a notice of his own imminent death. '_Memento Mori_,' the letter would say, only it would give a time and place.

"Not opening it won't make anything better," Lily sighed.

"There's a first time for everyone, mate," James said brightly. He had become a bit chummy with Remus since yesterday afternoon and Sirius, who nodded wisely, seemed to have jumped on the befriending bandwagon.

"Who are you calling your mate?" Lily asked dangerously.

"If anyone knows anything about getting into trouble, it's us," Sirius said, wolfing down bacon. "I say don't worry about it, Lupin. You're a good man."

Remus gulped. He loosened his tie, and then tightened it. He took a swig of his pumpkin juice, choked on it, swallowed—

"Oh bloody just open it," said Sirius, forgetting that he was trying to be supportive.

Nothing he did would make the reality of the situation go away. With sweating hands, he removed the seal…

Detention.

Remus J. Lupin had gotten himself a _detention_.

"My mum will _murder_ me," he said, trying not to faint.

"Not if she doesn't find out," James advised around a mouthful of toast. "The school doesn't tell your folks about every detention and house point or else _my_ mum would have hauled me out of here by now."

Sirius laughed.

"I can just imagine some of the letters I'd get sent home… my mum'd have me thrown down a flight of stairs if she found about Potions on Friday…"

James nearly snorted yogurt out of his nose.

"_Oh!_ You mean when you told Snivellus to suck your bollocks right in front of Professor Slughorn?"

"_WHAT?_" Lily bellowed, and Remus raised an eyebrow. He had seen Sirius have a detention slip slammed down on his desk before they had left Potions on that day, but he hadn't known what he'd done to deserve it.

"Who's sucking whose bollocks?" said someone behind them, and Peter Pettigrew sat down at the table with them, yawning widely.

"No one is," chirped James. "Well, none that I know of. Mornin', Pete, have a nice lie in?"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" Lily shouted, her face going from its usual color to the same shade as her hair in about two seconds, "WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO YOU?"

"Inside voices, Evans," Sirius said with a smirk.

"_What did he ever do to you_?" she repeated, though it was a decibel or two softer.

"It's a long, sad story," Sirius began with gusto, and James was already laughing. "You see, Professor Slughorn paired me with young Snivellus during Potions on Friday… so we, er, had a bit of an argument about whether we'd added flobberworm mucus yet. We definitely hadn't, but Snivellus said we had, and we get into it, and Snivellus throws the whole damn jar on me… well, okay, more like dripped a little accidentally… but it was still disgusting, so I decided to get even, and I flung some armadillo bile on him—"

"Get this," James said, his laughter now nearly uncontrollable. "And then… and then Professor Slughorn says, 'are you boys fighting?' Ahaha. Go and tell them… tell them what happened next!"

Lily was clearly not finding this to be very funny, and she looked to Remus, hoping to see an identical, irritated look on his face. Remus, however, was only barely managing to keep a straight face, and there was a betraying bit of a smile on his lips.

"Snivellus goes—" (here, he put on a nasally voice that sounded nothing like him but was funny nonetheless—) "'Black's gone and thrown this on me because he thinks I haven't added the flobberworm mucus! Professor, _please_ tell him that any imbecile could tell I have from the color it's turned…' And I had it after that, so I say, 'Professor, and will you please tell _Snivellus _that I don't care what he says and that he can just _suck—my—bollocks?_' which I thought was a brilliant thing to say but Professor Slughorn didn't find it very funny—"

"The rest of us did though," James said, wiping tears from his eyes, and Remus tried his best to not to start laughing—he maintained that he was far too mature to laugh at such inappropriate, juvenile humor—but he was having a hard time of it.

The bell rang, and everyone got up from the tables, causing the old benches they sat on to groan, as if they were all complaining bitterly that they were still in use. The Great Hall began to filter out, and the students went off in the directions of their classes. James and Sirius were walking next to each other, still with enormous smiles on their faces, and Peter grabbed handfuls of everything he could reach and stuffed them into his mouth before breakfast could disappear. He hurried after them a moment later.

Remus glanced at Lily, who was giving him a mild glare. He knew what was coming: she was going to berate him for thinking that Sirius' story was funny, make him feel guilty for having even dared smiled, and then quite probably drag him to the Slytherin table with her to apologize.

And it struck Remus, quite suddenly, that he didn't want to.

"We're going to be late," he said to Lily, flatly, and when she opened her mouth slightly, he paused just long enough to give her an apologetic look before swinging his bag onto his shoulder and walking in the direction of their first class.

Within another minute, Remus had caught sight of Sirius, James, and Peter again, who were laughing and carrying on as they always were. They were arrogant berks, as Remus often told himself, Sirius especially, and James never seemed to heed school rules, and Peter was a bit strange, but as Remus went along, having shoulders and elbows knocked into him like he wasn't even there, he considered that perhaps they weren't as bad as they seemed.

The main reason, he supposed, that he had never sought any sort of friendship with these three Gryffindor boys in the past was because they were nasty to Severus. Remus didn't like the things they did to him, and Lily seemed to hate the three of them with a fiery passion, but Remus didn't much care for Severus anymore, in all honesty. Remus was tired of acting like he was just as mad as Lily was whenever they bullied him, because Severus had joined his fellow Slytherins in their game of treating Remus as though he had a highly contagious case of dragon pox. Remus felt he had every right in the world to dislike Severus for this, and it shouldn't matter what Lily thought.

But still, Remus hesitated in falling into step with the others. Would this mean he had officially stepped over to the side of evil? Would he be the one nicking manure and mouthing off to Slytherins? Would he, from now on, be merely amused by the threat of detention, and frequently vanish from the Gryffindor common room for hours, only to reappear with armfuls of dungbombs? If he made a habit of talking to them, would he be forced to join the Sirius-James-Peter cult, in which both ritual goat sacrifices and cheese toasties were involved? Somehow, he doubted that joining in with their Boys Club would allow him to escape unscathed.

And yet James seemed to make friends with everyone. He had been nice enough to say hello to him on the very first day of school, and he was smart, and had once offered to help Remus with his Charms homework. Sirius, even with his posh ways and haughty looks, was quite popular as well, being the first Black to have ever been sorted out of Slytherin. He was a brilliant wizard himself, and he made laughing look so _easy, _which was something Remus thought he'd never be able to do. Both James and Sirius had even accepted Peter, and that was saying something, considering that Peter was a bit off. But what about Remus J. Lupin, self-proclaimed Most Boring First Year? Would he be accepted as well?

But, Remus decided, he wasn't going to be afraid to try. Of all the things he was tired of, he was tired of being too scared to make friends the most.

So he clenched his hands, quickened his pace so that he could walk behind directly behind the other boys, and he would have no idea what a life changing moment it was, not until many years later, when he asked, "can I walk with you blokes?"

Sirius glanced over his shoulder first, then James and Peter.

"Sure," said James, shrugging, and none of the others seemed remotely bothered by the fact that their group had attracted a stranger. Remus' heart did a small leap in his chest.

"So what you doing for your detention, Lupin?" Sirius asked, conversationally.

"Er," said Remus, and he flipped open the piece of parchment to read it fully for the first time. "I'm supposed to be… on the fourteenth… I'll be scrubbing the Owlery without magic… oh, cripes… Professor McGonagall isn't going easy on me."

He was glad, however, that he hadn't gotten anything worse. Perhaps Malfoy had been too embarrassed about the whole ordeal to turn him in for anything more than disrespect.

"Really?" Sirius said happily, and he slugged Remus in the shoulder in a friendly, only mildly bruising sort of way. "That's what I'm doing too! McGonagall's getting soft I think, if that's all she's making us do… I'll get some company in any event, looks like… oi, Potter, why don't _you_ have detention?"

"Dunno," James said, and he grinned at Remus. "Lupin here got me out of any punishments for Thursday, I guess!"

"Thursday?" Remus mumbled, suddenly remembering, and his face fell. Why he had been briefly excited about his detention, he had no idea.

"What's the matter with Thursday?" Peter asked.

"What? Did you want it to be Wednesday, so you'd skip Astronomy?" asked James.

Of course Professor McGonagall wouldn't know. Maybe she knew that the full moon would be coming on Friday night and had assumed it wouldn't have affected him, but Remus knew that the Owlery was located in the West Tower and had enormous windows, and he would be bathed in moonlight for hours. He knew from experience that even the night before and after the full moon, he tended to get a bit anxious and uncontrollable—and a bit hairy, too.

"I think I'll have to do it another time," Remus muttered.

"Why?" asked Sirius.

"I, er… well, I can't be there."

It was a terrible excuse, and Remus knew it, but he didn't have the time to think.

"Are you going to be gone again?" Peter said, and Remus blinked.

"What?"

"You know… you're gone sometimes. Like every few weeks. Pretty regularly, I think."

"He is?" James asked. "I never noticed before. Hm… huh. Actually, yeah, I guess so. What've you been gone for, Lupin?"

Remus just barely kept himself from cursing. He wished that he could have pretended that he had suddenly lost his voice, because he still couldn't think fast enough. This was why he couldn't allow himself to get too close to anyone: if he knew someone too well, they would begin to ask questions. Did he really think that everyone would just ignore the fact that he mysteriously disappeared every month, especially if that person was friendly enough with him to pay any attention to it?

"I don't think I should say," Remus told them lamely.

James and Sirius rolled their eyes as they reached the stairs to the first floor and began to climb it. Peter regarded Remus closely as the stairs began to shift to connect with the hallway that led to History of Magic.

"You got something to hide, Lupin?" Sirius asked sharply.

"No," said Remus.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're doing a pretty bad job of convincing us of that," Peter said, serenely.

"He's got a big secret," James said, grinning. "Now I wish _I_ had detention with you."

"No you don't," snapped Remus.

"Then why can't you go? Are you going to be gone?"

"I have a good reason, don't bother me about it."

"Tell us!" James and Sirius said together.

They had reached the classroom, and Remus purposefully walked away from the three boys and sat down at his usual seat. It had been so nice to act like he was one of them a few minutes ago, but that was the end of that.

Or perhaps that _wasn't_ that. He hadn't even taken out his notes before James and Sirius were on either side of him, staring at him intently.

"Go away," Remus grumbled. "Potter, you're in Lily's seat."

"Tell us what you're being all secretive about," James said.

"No, I'm not going to tell you."

"Why not?" asked Sirius.

"Because I don't think you should know."

"What, are you scared of us or something?" James taunted.

"Did Lupin lose his bollocks?" Sirius asked nastily.

The bell rang, and both of them reluctantly went away and sat by Peter instead.

Remus finally opened his notes to the correct page just as Lily jogged into the classroom, shut the door behind her, and slipped into her seat. Remus was probably the only one to have noticed, because History of Magic usually meant the time of day when everyone got to zone out and perhaps take a nap.

"What took you?" Remus asked, though he thought he already knew the answer. He kept glancing at the three boys across the room from him as though preparing for a surprise attack.

"Severus," Lily said, panting slightly and putting down her bag. "I told him I was sorry for what _they_ did."

Remus didn't need to ask who she was referring to.

"Sorry I didn't go with you," he began, thinking Lily was about to have her first chance to tell him off, but Lily did nothing of the sort.

"You aren't friends with him," she said, giving a small shrug. "And I realize he hasn't been nice to you."

"Oh," said Remus. So Lily did understand. That was good, because now he could go back to being just Lily's friend in peace. James, Sirius and Peter, he had already decided, were just too curious.

"Actually, Sev hasn't been too nice to me either, lately," Lily sighed, and before Remus had the chance to ask what that meant, Professor Binns floated in through the chalkboard, as he normally did, and cleared his ghostly throat.

"And," he began, starting mid-sentence and precisely at the point in their text that he had ended with a few days ago, "in 1512—"

"Professor?"

James Potter's hand had shot into the air. Everyone looked rather surprised, as History of Magic generally went by without anyone raising their hands, accept for Remus and a few other naïve first years, and here was James, waving his arm determinedly until he was noticed.

"What's he doing?" Lily wondered aloud, and Remus stared.

"Mister…" Professor Binns said finally, his boring voice even slower than usual, "Mister… Plopper, was it? Or maybe…"

"Yes," James said, plowing right through whatever horrible guess he was about to make. "Professor Binns, I'd just like to know if you could please give me a detention for Thursday night. Scrubbing out the Owlery, specifically."

James put down his hand and kept his eyes firmly locked on Professor Binns. The entire classroom went silent for a moment, and a few Ravenclaws shuffled their feet, not sure whether it was a joke or not. The Gryffindors, who knew James best of all, were quite certain it was a joke, but they were confused as well. Sirius had his head down on his desk, his shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

"If you like," Professor Binns finally said. He made a note on a piece of paper, and then turned back to the textbook like nothing out of the unusual had just happened. "And, in 1512…"

"Oh!" Peter called out. His arm had shot skyward as well, and his hand fluttered frantically in the air. "Me too, Professor!"

The class looked at each other, absolutely baffled, as Professor Binns made another mark. Lily watched, quizzically, as Remus simply buried his head in his hands and did not resurface until the class period was over.

--

_March 8, 1972_

_Name(s): Sirius Black_

_Offense: Foul language; cheek_

_Punishment: Detention_

_March 11, 1972_

_Name(s): Remus Lupin_

_Offense: Disrespect for a prefect. (First ever rule violation.)_

_Punishment: Detention_

_March 12, 1972  
_

_Name(s): James Potter and Peter Pettigrew_

_Offense: Requested_

_Punishment: Detention_

A little more than twenty five years later, the murderous look that Harry Potter had been wearing for the past half hour faded into puzzlement. His eyes slid to Professor Snape, wondering if he should ask.

--

--

AN: Am I portraying them as foul-mouthed twelve year olds or as 'normal' twelve year olds? (I don't really remember what it was like when I was a boy of twelve, seeing as I'm female, for one thing.) As they get older the Marauders start to swear more, so that's pretty much what the teen rating is for.

Reviews make me smile, so thanks for your reviews thus far.


	9. Year 1, Spring: To Protect A Secret

**IV. To Protect A Secret**

_Sirius was the last to arrive at breakfast on his eleventh birthday—he had intended to sleep in, considering it was a weekend, but Kreacher had been sent up to wake him—and immediately saw, upon entering the dining room, that his parents were looking extremely stern._

_"We've been waiting twenty minutes for you to come downstairs," said Mr. Black sourly, checking his watch. He was in his finest robes, the set that was all black with mossy green trim._

_"S-sorry," said __Sirius__. He had meant to come sooner, but he'd gotten all tangled up in his stupid dress robes. He didn't even know why he'd been told to wear them today, it wasn't like it mattered…_

_"No matter," Mrs. Black said, and she pulled out the chair at the end of the table, which was usually reserved for Sirius' father. Sirius sat down, and his mother pressed a cold, perfunctory kiss to his forehead before smoothing his neatly trimmed hair. "Happy Birthday, Sirius," she said, clearly as an afterthought._

_"Happy Birthday," Regulus chirped._

_Sirius looked over to his father, but he didn't say anything. So Sirius sighed to Regulus and his mother, "thanks."_

_Next, Mr. Black barked for Kreacher to bring breakfast. The house-elf immediately began magicking food-laden dishes onto the table, and once Mr. Black had chosen what he liked, the others were allowed to fill their plates. For several minutes there was only the quiet clatter of silverware on china, and everyone at the table ate without a word._

_"Your letter came today," Mrs. Black remarked, breaking the silence, though she made it sound as if this was of little consequence. Regulus looked at his brother with a little smile._

_"And a fine Slytherin you'll make," said Mr. Black, his silver goblet half way to his mouth. Then he added, rather warningly, "won't you?"_

_"Yes," muttered Sirius. He took an unnecessarily large bite out of a muffin to keep himself from saying something to contrary._

_"And we'll be having guests over this evening, for your birthday party," Mrs. Black said._

_'Guests' would mean Mr. and Mrs. Black's adult friends, and certainly no one that Sirius would want to talk to, but he couldn't argue about their party guests, either. He hoped that Andromeda would come, but he supposed it wouldn't be too bad of an evening if he could sit in the corner with his brother and stare at the floor or something._

_"Alright," said Sirius._

_Once everyone had eaten, and Kreacher had vanished their plates into the kitchen for washing, Mrs. Black looked expectantly at her husband, who cleared his throat._

_"Sirius—eleventh birthdays are very important in the Black family," he said, for what must have been the eleventh time since yesterday. "Knowing that you have been accepted to Hogwarts, today is the day that we will name you as heir to the House of Black. Now, with your…" Mr. Black paused to wave his hand, searching for the proper word. "__Recent behavior, your mother and I have had our doubts, but we're certain this is only a phase. Am I correct, Sirius?"_

_"Yes," said Sirius, mechanically._

_"Orion, now would be an appropriate time to have him open his first gift, I think," Mrs. Black said._

_"Oh yes. Now would be an excellent time. Kreacher?"_

_Kreacher was already one step ahead of him. He was holding a relatively slim but handsome wooden chest at the legs of Mr. Black's chair, waiting._

_"Something the matter?" snarled Mr. Black. "Deliver it to him!"_

_The house-elf nodded silently and scurried over to Sirius instead. Kreacher lifted the chest, and Sirius took it from him before his father complained that he was wasting his time._

_"Thanks," Sirius mumbled to his parents, looking at the chest. It had very delicate carvings in it at the corners, and it really wasn't such a bad gift. Sirius considering that he could even hide some of his Slytherin themed things in it so he didn't have to look at them every day._

_"What are you thanking us for?" Mrs. Black snapped. "We haven't given you a box. Open it, Sirius."_

_Sirius jumped and fumbled at the lock, and after lifting the lid, he nearly bit his tongue off in surprise. Inside the velvet lined chest was a beautiful wand, its handle encrusted in diamonds and shimmering emeralds. He'd never seen such a gorgeous thing in his life—was _this_ the wand his parents wanted him to use at Hogwarts?_

_"You aren't to use it," Mrs. Black said, answering this question at once. "But it's yours now, as it was once your father's. This wand has been in our family for forty generations."_

_"Who's—who's wand was it?" Sirius breathed._

_"It is believed that it belonged to Sirius Black the First, your ancestor," Mr. Black said, dully. "He was one of the very first Ministers of Magic, and it is said that he preferred to use this wand himself for the execution of Mudbloods. A common practice at the time, something that certainly ought to have continued…"_

_"No fair!" interrupted Regulus, bouncing on his chair. "Mum, why didn't __I get something cool like that for my birthday? I didn't want that stupid locket, lockets are for _girls_—"_

_"Silence, Regulus," Mrs. Black hissed, and Regulus quieted, but he was still visibly vibrating in his seat._

_"How do you like it, Sirius?" asked Mr. Black, though it didn't seem as if he actually cared to hear the answer._

_"It's great," Sirius said, a muscle working in his jaw. He was getting the terrible feeling that today would not be a good day._

--

While Remus had arrived at the Owlery ten minutes early, the other boys did not seem to see the necessity in being punctual. James, Sirius and Peter lazily strolled around the corner at about thirty seconds until midnight. They were chattering loudly, not caring that the rest of the castle was supposed to be asleep.

"Hey Remus," Peter greeted him, and he was sounding absolutely chipper about the whole ordeal.

"Oh hello, Lupin," James said lightly. "Fancy seeing you here."

Remus gave him a menacing look and said, "Potter, you can suck my bollocks. Seriously."

"Sure," James offered, and he kept a straight face as he said, "though I'd prefer to do it in private, it might be a bit awkward with these blokes around…"

"Shut up!" Remus said, and he tried desperately to ignore the fact that Sirius was doing his laugh that sounded like a bark again. "Bloody hell, why'd you have to ask for a detention!"

"I wanted to see if you'd show up," James responded seriously. "And if you didn't, I'd keep Sirius company. I was bored anyway, I wanted to see if it'd work."

Just then, the caretaker came marching down the hall from the other direction, and Remus straightened up. Apollyon Pringle always had a mean look on his face, and pretty much everyone knew that he rather enjoyed giving troublemakers a beating.

"So, the usual suspects and these two," he said bitterly. "You got off easy, I tell ya, if I had my way, you lot'd be hanging from the ceiling…"

"Why aren't we?" Peter asked pleasantly.

"Why don't you ask Professor Dumbledore?" Pringle grumbled. "After that last whipping, he won't let me do anything any more…"

James and Sirius exchanged grins.

"I aughta resign, Dippet never had anything against a good beating, this Dumbledore's too soft on ya… but it's my job to keep you little snots in line…"

"You wouldn't even _have_ a job if you didn't spend your whole day trying to keep us from planting Dungbombs everywhere," Sirius spoke out coarsely. "This school's filthy."

For a moment the caretaker didn't do anything, but then hit him upside the head with his broom.

After Pringle unlocked the Owlery door, which was generally off limits at this time of night, he made all four boys turn in their wands. He conjured up a set of brushes, dustpans and buckets for each of them, and as they stepped inside, the bones of small animals crunched under their feet. The hundreds of owls that slept in the Owlery during the day were out to hunt or fetch mail for their owners, so all that was left were more perches than you could count, all covered in owl droppings.

"You'll be in here cleaning until two in the morning," Pringle told them, rattling his keys with a sinister expression. "And I'll be locking the door after ya, so don't ya think about escaping. Ya have two hours, git going."

And with that, Pringle slammed the door shut, causing a considerable amount of droppings to come loose and land on top of them.

"This sucks bullocks," Peter said hopefully.

"It's only funny when we say it, Pete," Sirius told him, and James shook his head and sighed.

"This stinks more than I thought it would," he admitted, and Remus was sure he wasn't just referring to the smell. James dropped his bucket onto the floor, not caring that he had slopped water over the side, and ruffled his already untidy hair with an indignant look on his face.

"What if we have to use the bathroom?" asked Peter.

"Go in the corner," Sirius suggested, and he put his own bucket down in front of the nearby perches. He raised his arm as though he had uncharacteristically already resigned himself to the task at hand—it probably had something to do with the broom that had hit him just a minute ago—but he suddenly froze.

"Anyone ever have to clean stuff before?" he asked, sheepishly.

"Not me," said James. He was holding his brush like it was an alien device. "My mum just uses her wand."

"Our house-elf does the cleaning at my place," said Sirius offhandedly, and the others gave him jealous looks, knowing that your family had to be extremely rich to be able to afford a house-elf.

"Remus, do you know how?" asked Peter.

"Er," Remus said, "I've done a little cleaning before… you know, because sometimes I have to take care of the animals we keep, and I can't do magic, obviously…"

Remus didn't care to mention that he also occasionally had to clean out the tool shed, since it tended to accumulate a large amount of fur.

"Share your secrets with us then, Lupin," James said, giving him a playful little bow, and Remus snorted but gave them all a demonstration on the wall behind him, which felt awkward, but other boys stared at him like his performance was worthy of applause.

"Just, er, don't just brush it all wimpy like," said Remus. "That's really all there is."

They started to work right away. Pringle hadn't specified whether or not the Owlery needed to be spotless when their time was up, so they worked quickly to try to do as much as possible. Even with four people, it would be a considerable task to get done in the time they were allotted, and it was going to be hard work, too. No one said much at first, but once they'd gotten past the fact that the Owlery was disgusting and that their arms were steadily growing sore, they began to work more efficiently and found the time to talk.

Remus learned several things he hadn't known before. James Potter was apparently from an old wizard family living in the village of Godric's Hollow in southwestern England, which Remus had heard about because of the village's history of being wizard-friendly. James' parents were rather old, he told them, and he had no siblings, and he led a fairly uneventful, but pleasant, life at home. He also took great pride in the fact that his family owned a great number of magical artifacts, though he confessed that he didn't know the stories behind most of them.

Sirius, who was of course from the pureblooded and incredibly rich Black family, was a Londoner—which explained his accent—and it was immediately obvious that he more or less hated his own home. His family was fanatical about their heritage, and Sirius expressed his anxiety about his family siding with Voldemort, who had been a growing concern for the magical community in recent years, and was known to be an uncontrollable nutter. Andromeda Black, in Sirius' opinion, was the only member of his family who had turned out alright, or, indeed, the only member of Slytherin House that had turned out alright. Remus could easily agree, seeing as Andromeda was nice enough to ask him about his day when they ran into each other, and had even sent him a present last Christmas.

And as for Peter Pettigrew, he was from Wales. Though his family did not have some noble background, he was pretty sure that one of his grandparents had once done some work for the Ministry of Magic.

"Where are you from, Lupin?" asked James.

"The country," Remus answered with a shrug. "It's all farmland and pretty much everyone is a Muggle, but my Dad was a Muggle-born and that's where he grew up. It's not too bad of a place, it's just that there isn't a whole lot to do. We raise animals so that the Muggles won't get suspicious, so we've got chickens and a horse, and there's crops growing all around, and the corn goes clear over your head. Past the fields, there's the woods, and they must go on forever, because I've never gotten to the end of them. You could spend the whole day in there."

"Sounds kind of nice, actually," said Sirius, and Remus was surprised that Sirius for a moment sounded a bit jealous. Sirius sighed and sloshed more water onto the step he was scrubbing. "I don't really like London. There isn't much green space, you know? And even though there's so many people there and the streets are always congested, my parents want me to stay indoors all the time because I can't be associating with Muggles. And my house is awful, it's so gloomy and dark and my parents expect me to eat and breathe their every word, like my brother does… they've started calling him 'the good son'…" Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You have a brother?" asked James, with alarm.

"Yeah, Regulus. Did I never mention him? Yeah, he's one year younger and an utter moron, he believes every word of all this purebloods-are-good-as-kings rubbish."

"Are you glad that you're in Gryffindor House?" Remus wondered.

"Of course I am," said Sirius, and he moved up to the next step. "When I came here, I really wanted to be in any other House but Slytherin, even though I thought that that was going to be impossible, but I got my wish granted. And I'm really happy—I've been wishing I wasn't a Black since I was little, and being in Gryffindor means I get away from all of my family's talk. I get to hear from people that make _sense_ for once. And Potter's the best friend I've ever had," he added.

"Aw, how sweet," James teased.

"You think I'm kidding? Blimey, before coming to Hogwarts, life sucked."

No one spoke, but it was clear from the looks on their faces that they all felt the same way. It seemed that for all of them, for one reason for another, life had gotten ten times better since having come to Hogwarts.

"How did you parents take it?" Remus inquired. "You know, when they found out that you weren't in Slytherin?"

Sirius laughed darkly to himself.

"I don't think they know," he said. "I didn't go home for Christmas and I'm not going back for Easter break either because I just don't want to face them. Can you imagine what they'd say if they knew? They'd ostracize me from the family. I convinced 'Dromeda to try and tell everyone that my parents are so ashamed that they don't want it brought up, so hopefully that'll keep them quiet for a while. And my parents wouldn't ask Dumbledore or anything, since he's a Muggle sympathizer..."

"They'll find out sometime, though," James told him. "It might have happened already, even."

"I hope not," said Sirius, though he sounded a little worried now. "I actually wouldn't know… I've been chucking my letters into the fire. I just know I haven't been sent a Howler, so that's a good sign."

"I guess so…"

"Remus," Peter said suddenly, "mind telling us what was so important about today that you didn't want to tell us?"

It struck Remus that the ground that he was currently scrubbing was completely lit up by the moonlight outside, and yet he had not noticed it at all. Even when looking up at his least favorite celestial body—so that the moonlight caught him full in the face—the moon only hung innocently in the sky. It was nearly full, but not quite, and still it didn't seem to affect him in the slightest. When he gazed at the other boys, he saw them only as potential friends, and he didn't even have the slightest urge to start gnawing at them.

"It's nothing," Remus said, in awe. It was just one day before the full moon—just one day before!—and he showed none of the usual signs… he did not feel irritable or hungry or any of the things he associated with the night before his transformation…

"Then what were you going on about yesterday?" James said, who sounded annoyed. "You're telling me I asked for detention for nothing? You made this big deal out of it."

"It's not a big deal," Remus answered quickly.

"Yes it is," Sirius said forcefully. "We have to pry it out of you even now."

Remus was in a frenzy of thought. He definitely couldn't tell the truth, but what would seem reasonable? Peter had already pointed out that he didn't seem to be in class with everyone at times, so he had to come up with something that would cause him to be absent on a regular basis…

The more he thought about the excuses he could give, the more hopeless it seemed. It did not help that some very small voice in the back of his head wanted very badly to tell these boys everything he had been keeping secret for all these years…

No. He must lie. If people knew, he couldn't stay at Hogwarts. He would be shunned more than ever. If people knew, he'd be taken away from learning magic, and Hogwarts, and Lily, and Peter and James and Sirius, and everything and everyone he loved so much.

He had to lie to them. Because they were too precious _not_ be lied to.

"My mother is ill," Remus declared, weakly.

The room went deathly silent.

"Are you serious?" yelped James, finally.

"I'm sorry," Peter said quickly, averting his eyes.

Sirius had dropped his rag.

"That's horrible, I'm sorry mate… What's the matter with her?"

"Erm," Remus began. He couldn't bide for time. He had to act like this was all old news, like he wasn't making it up…

"The doctors won't say," he invented as quickly as he could. "Dad says that means it's serious though, if they don't want to tell us…"

"Doctors?" James said incredulously. "Send her to Mungo's, they'll make her better faster than a Muggle could…"

"Not if she's got a Muggle disease, though," Sirius pointed out. "There's a lot of Muggle diseases that Healers can't help, and neither can doctors. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Remus said, nodding solemnly. He was glad Sirius had brought up this fact or else he would have never thought of it. "She's not getting better, either. She has to stay in bed all day. All the time."

For a moment, he imagined his mother, who had a busy job in Diagon Alley, on top of taking care of the house, and apologized to her in his head.

"And you visit her once a month?" James asked with a frown.

"Yes, about once a month…"

"You must be afraid," Peter whispered suddenly, and the others looked at him.

"Of what?" asked Remus.

"I mean, aren't you afraid she's going to die?"

Remus looked at them all. They all wore looks of immense pity, and after a few moments of silence, Remus turned away from them. It was not because he wanted to compose himself, as the boys would be led to believe, but because he was ashamed.

--

--

AN: The Potters, according to Rowling, were totally awesome parents. It's too bad they died. D:  
I really like Regulus, by the by, so I'm going to mention him as much as possible. Hohoho.


	10. Year 1, Spring: Transformation

**V. Transformation**

_"Mum, it's my letter from Hogwarts!"_

_Mrs. Potter gasped. Mr. Potter dropped his newspaper._

_"Well, we knew it'd be coming today," said Mr. Potter, hastily picking the Daily Prophet back off the kitchen floor, but he looked quite proud._

_"Let me see the letter, dear," said Mrs. Potter, bustling over to his side. James handed her the letter, and Mrs. Potter smiled as she read it over. She rubbed her hand on his shoulder affectionately as she said, "well! Looks like we've got ourselves another Gryffindor in the making!"_

_"You think I'll be in Gryffindor?"_

_"Of course you will," said Mr. Potter, smiling broadly. "The Potter family's been in Gryffindor for generations."_

_James grinned. He liked the idea of being in Gryffindor—the House for those who were courageous and daring._

_"We'll be needing to buy your school things soon, in any case, before the prices all rocket up in summer," Mrs. Potter said. She had always been very frugal, though expenses had never been a problem for the Potter family._

_"Could we go today, Mum?" asked James, excitedly._

_"Oh, honey, it's your birthday today, you don't really want to spend the day going shopping, do you?"_

_"We can go today if he likes," said Mr. Potter. "I'm sure he'll be wanting his wand, I know I did. And how about we get him his own owl as well? It's about time we got him one."_

_"An owl? Cool!"_

_"As long as he writes us occasionally," Mr. Potter added, with a bit of a grin._

_"You know I will, Dad," James promised, and he meant it._

--

At exactly three in the morning, a full hour after they had been told that their detention would end, Pringle unlocked the Owlery door.

He gazed at the clean perches and floor for a moment, and then gazed at the four boys, all looking fit to pass out from exhaustion. Pringle gave an approving grunt and took back their cleaning supplies before dismissing them.

Even Sirius and James didn't have the energy to complain about the extra hour that had been added to their sentence as they stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower with their eyes half open. Peter halfheartedly convinced the others to shower so that they wouldn't smell like owl droppings the next morning, and by the time Remus J. Lupin had had gotten the chance to collapse onto his four-poster bed, he dropped off to sleep almost instantly.

The next morning came too soon. The other Gryffindors began to stir around eight o'clock so that they would have time to dress and go down to breakfast before classes started at nine—meaning that that the four Gryffindors who had been in detention last night had gotten less than five hours of glorious sleep.

James and Peter were the first to grudgingly get out of bed, then Remus. All three had to help in order to drag a griping Sirius out of bed, who, being a Black, probably had never had a bad night's sleep in his life.

The morning classes proceeded as normal, except that Remus invited himself to sit next to Sirius and James and Peter, and the whole group was a lot quieter. Then, come two in the afternoon, directly after Potions, Remus reminded the others that he would not be going to their next class—Transfiguration—because he would be visiting his mother. The boys yawned widely as they waved him off.

Remus' transformations were prepared for hours in advance. Most wizards had a misconception—one misconception among many—that a werewolf would just sit around all day and wait for the changes to start happening. But this would have been a dangerous thing, as the moon rose at different times each month, and even if you knew this exact time, there was really no telling exactly when the symptoms would begin to hit. Merely as a precaution, Remus would go to the hospital wing each month well before anything actually happened, and this time around, Madam Pomfrey had thought two would be an appropriate time to come.

Remus entered the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey sat at her desk, writing up another accident report. She paused and looked up, smiling a little. She often liked to say that Remus was her favorite patient.

"Right on time, dear," she said. "Make yourself comfortable then."

Remus crossed the room swiftly, passing an older girl that seemed to have frogs bouncing out of her ears. She looked at him quizzically, obviously seeing nothing physically wrong with him. The bed that was kept for Remus' use was kept in the far corner and heavily shielded by curtains for just this reason: any student coming into the hospital wing was bound to wonder why there was a first year in one of the beds that didn't look the least bit ill. Also, students were not about to be allowed to be near or see someone who could potentially go hairy and growly at any moment.

Remus crashed his curtains open, went through, closed them again, and then flung himself onto his bed. His usual routine was to sleep from now until sunset, as he wouldn't be able to rest once he had transformed—his werewolf would make sure of that. He felt a twinge of guilt, realizing that while he was about to get more sleep, his friends were probably nodding off in the middle of Transfiguration at that very moment. However, he was asleep again in five minutes time, and that put an end to his remorse.

An hour before the moon rose, Madam Pomfrey gently woke Remus again and had him take a cocktail of medicines that was meant to ease the pain of his transformations. Remus always drank them all down, despite his suspicions that they never really worked.

"Are you ready then?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"Yeah," said Remus. There was no avoiding the inevitable, was there?

Madam Pomfrey swept her cloak over her shoulders and draped another—it was far too large for a reason—over Remus' head. They promptly left the infirmary.

On the night of the full moon, Pringle always purposefully neglected to light the grounds. This was because every month, Madam Pomfrey would take Remus and sneak him across the lawn as swiftly as possible under cover of darkness, to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where there was an enormous tree, swaying in the evening breeze. This was the Whomping Willow, and it was always watching, ready to guard the world from a monster that was about to enter its hiding place.

A stick was enchanted to prod the base of the tree, and the Whomping Willow went very still.

"Hurry, hurry now…" murmured Madam Pomfrey.

Beneath this tree, there was a low, narrow tunnel. They dropped down into it, with a slight "oof" as they landed, and Madam Pomfrey led Remus down the tunnel for perhaps a full twenty minutes before it finally became wider and they inexplicably had come to the outside of a house.

"We made good time tonight," Madam Pomfrey said. "Still half an hour left."

Madam Pomfrey lifted her wand, so that its light could illuminate the basement door in front of them.

"In you get, then. I will come get you in the morning as always. Best of luck, Mr. Lupin."

Remus didn't say anything as he went through the door. Madam Pomfrey closed it behind him, and he could hear the unmistakable sound of about five different locks closing and a half dozen whispered spells on the other side. Then there was the sound of Madam Pomfrey moving away again, and it was silent. He was alone.

"Hello," Remus said, stupidly, as a spider dropped down from the ceiling on a thread, as if it had come to see who was at the door. There were a few things that Remus could always count on seeing in the Shrieking Shack: spiders, enough broken furniture to rival even the amount of broken furniture in the Lupin household, and dust so thick on the floor that he could probably lay down on his back and make dust angels. The Shack didn't used to have broken furniture in it—it was once just an abandoned house, with perfectly unbroken furniture, which, after years of disuse, had been converted into a once-a-month werewolf prison. As a werewolf, however, Remus enjoyed taking his frustrations out on the furniture when he was feeling particularly angry, so it looked worse every time he came.

Remus moved across the floor, sat down on the couch, and then, with a sigh, he began to remove his shoes. Unfortunately, a werewolf didn't fit very well into human clothing, so it would be necessary to remove them, if he didn't want them torn up. So Remus slipped out of his robes and trousers, put his things away in the cupboard in the basement where he wouldn't be able to get to them and tear them up anyway, and went back up the stairs to sit down again.

He waited.

When Remus had still been very small, he hadn't understood that he was a werewolf. He knew that he had horribly painful transformations once a month, but he had always assumed that this was something that happened to everyone. He thought maybe everyone was bitten at some point in their lives. Remus had never thought, at the age of four, that he could be different from anyone else. He'd never considered that he had a disease, not until his parents began telling him to keep his condition a secret, and he learned that there were laws that would forbid him from certain things for the rest of his life. He'd never understood how afraid people were until he began to notice that he was very alone.

Remus didn't remember all of that first night, that night of the first full moon that he transformed under, that night when the moon gained a terrifying significance in his life. But he did remember waking up the next morning, shuddering on the ground, still coughing up blood. His leg burned with pain, and when he looked down at it, he saw that the cursed wound was still open and bleeding. Remus stared at it for a long time before getting shakily to his feet and realizing, more than anything, that he needed his parents to make everything alright again.

When he stumbled back into the house, sobbing, "Daddy? Mummy?" that had been the only time that Remus had ever seen his father crying. His mother had hugged him tightly, petting his hair, letting him cry on her shoulder. She whispered to him, "Remus, sweetie, we love you, we'll always love you. It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay."

But as his mother shook while she held him, and Mr. Lupin sunk into his armchair and sobbed into his hands, Remus knew, quite suddenly knew, that it wasn't going to be okay at all. It was completely hopeless. All was black. His parents _couldn't_ make everything okay again, try as they might, and everything was going to be so far from okay that it only made Remus cry even harder.

It started happening just when Madam Pomfrey said it would. Remus had just been absently counting the number of freckles on the back of his hand when he noticed the hairs on his arms beginning to grow thicker. He moved himself from the sofa, as he didn't trust himself not to fall off and hit the ground once the pain set in, and then he felt hairs springing up all over. He shook as his skin began to burn up, and his bones began aching, and his fingernails lengthened. This was the last chance he had to experience human thought, so he used the moment to consider the fact that he probably should have clipped his nails earlier, so that they didn't turn three inches long and deadly.

He knew the worst part was about to come, and he braced himself for it, but that did not stop him from screaming and writhing on the floor. He tried not to think about it, because it always made him want to vomit when he did, but he was very much aware that his very bones and muscles were rearranging themselves, bending and molding, and each movement stretched his skin like it was just elastic. His organs shunted themselves in different directions and found new places for themselves, his tendons and muscles and veins were pulled apart as easily as cotton candy, the networks of nerves under his flesh became so strained that they snapped. Remus was never sure what exactly hurt the most, because he always lost track of where his new pain was coming from. Like surgery without anesthesia, like being carved into like a Christmas ham, like having an autopsy done while still alive, there was simply no comparison, no words to describe it, only pain on top of pain.

Remus screamed and screamed and he still could not scream enough.

The internal shifting ended, and now all that was left was for his spine warped itself, his teeth to elongate and puncture his lip before his mouth had turned completely into a muzzle, his ears to shift and become pointed, his legs to morph into great, powerful hunches, to grow a tufted tail. His agonized yells turned to an infuriated and miserable whining, punctuated by growls.

The pain lifted, except for the dull, lingering soreness that would last all evening. Remus wobbled as he stood again, now on four powerful legs, and surveyed the world through his new eyes.

He promptly lost his mind.

The werewolf began to slash and claw at everything in reach. He needed blood, _human_ blood, people to maim and slaughter, and this necessity replaced his every thought with the impulse to hurt all that got in his way. He didn't care how much destruction he caused, because he needed out, he needed to be allowed to hunt, he wanted to chase someone down and rip him apart.

Slash. Tear. Mutilate, devour. _Murder_. He slammed against walls, upturned a chair, sunk his claws into the floor and made long tracks in the wood. He scrambled up stairs, desperate to find a way to escape, and when there was none, he became only angrier and dashed into the fragile stair rail—he crashed straight through and landed on the lower floor. Dust, wood, and fur went flying.

He continued his frantic and needlessly violent rampage for hours, his rage calming only slightly after the moon had reached its highest point in the sky and began its descent. He watched it through a window and howled at it, begging for more time. When it wasn't working, he barreled his way down a hallway and bashed through a door he'd never managed to break down before.

He sensed a heartbeat. Then, a sharp cry.

He paused to sniff out the source. Where was it coming from? He grew increasingly excited as he wildly speculated that it might be a human child, but then, he came upon a nest of blankets that had been piled onto the ground. The werewolf approached, eagerly, but then was disappointed to find, nestled into the blanket, three spotted kittens, their eyes closed and their bodies still weak, mewling pathetically for help.

Well then. _Something_ to kill, anyway.

He had just opened his jaws when, from nowhere, a solid black cat came bounding up, hissing and spitting, and slashed him across the nose with a sharp claw. The wolf reeled back, roaring with anger, but then remembered that the cat was much smaller than he was, and he was quite capable of stamping its life out if he liked. He went after it, but—

He hesitated for a moment, watching the glaring cat with the hairs along her back on end, the cat that was ready to sacrifice her life for her the three delicate kitten that lay in the blanket. The kittens cried out, and the werewolf, a monstrous animal but an animal nonetheless, realized that if he just listened, he could almost make out the words behind their frightened pleading.

He couldn't. He couldn't make himself go on. He backed away, tail swishing, and he sat down near the door. The mother cat surveyed him wearily for a few moments, but then she went to attend to her children.

The werewolf looked on with a mixture of feelings he'd never experienced in this form. He watched the cat clean her kittens, make sure they had been properly fed, and then watch over them as the kittens began to tumble about and play. All the while, the cat kept glancing back at the wolf, who no longer desired to hurt anything at all, as bizarre as this was. He was in fact intensely interested in watching the small family in front of him, and he felt that maybe he should watch them for the rest of the night.

He realized, in his simplistic, animal way, that he knew the owner of the cat—Andromeda Black. He was also vaguely aware that he too had a mother, a mother who was not always perfect, couldn't always save him from his pains and terrors, but she loved him, and loved him dearly.

The moon dropped below the horizon with due time, as it always did. Dim light flooded the Shrieking Shack, signifying dawn's arrival.

Remus stirred.

He way lying on the floor, curled up in a comfortable position. Looking up, he could see an empty pile of blankets, and the bedroom he was in. He pulled himself up and checked for damage—there was a long bruise along his side, from when he had fallen, and a half-healed scratch on the tip of his nose, but he was otherwise fine, and that in itself was a miracle.

Remus got to his feet, confused, but most of all, his brain was whirring at top speed, trying to figure out the implications of the things he had discovered within the last two days.

_One._

_I seem to not be so influenced by the moon when surrounded by friends._

_Two._

_Even when transformed, I am still extremely gentle around animals._

He wrote these two things in his journal because he believed they might be the keys to making himself a little less miserable, but how they could come together… he had no idea.

--

--

AN: Basically wrote this chapter because Rowling never described how the transformations happened. There's a lot of vagueness on the details of how and when, but this is my take on it.

Loving the reviews so far!


	11. Year 2, Halloween: Two Surprises

**I. Two Surprises**

"Alright gents," James announced, approaching his trunk by his bed, "this is the stuff. It's the best of what I managed to nick."

"The one you've been talking about all bloody summer in there?" Sirius asked impatiently, as the others dropped down onto the rug.

"Oh yes," said James mysteriously, too casually readjusting his glasses in front of his audience. "It's most definitely in there."

"I'm starting to think you're putting us on," said Remus, which was affirmed by the nodding heads of Sirius and Peter.

"It's supposed to be a _surprise_," said James, unperturbedly. "It isn't a tossing surprise if I _tell you about it_."

Remus knew—they all did—from the letters James had sent them over the summer that he had spent his holidays raiding storage places for his family's treasures. James reported that in the span of two months, he had managed to sneak off with enough junk that he'd had to resort to pulling up nearly all of the floorboards in his room so that he had enough space to hide his stolen goods. He'd kept hinting, for two months straight, that he'd found something in particular that was so amazing it was going to change things forever, but he'd absolutely refused to say anything more about it. All of them had been waiting to see it on their first day back, and here they were, but James still wouldn't tell them what it was.

"Just get on with it then!"

"Fine, Black. Ruin everyone's fun—"

"_Your_ fun, more like."

"_Fine_," James said emphatically, and then finally kneeled down and pulled the first latch with a flourish. Peter waited eagerly, hardly breathing at all, Remus leaned forward, and Sirius was smiling but looking rather huffy as the second latch met the same flourished fate. James pried open the top of his trunk.

It was a magnificent collection of odds and ends for the eye to behold. Many of the items crammed into James' trunk looked perfectly normal, or even boring, but that was typical of magical artifacts—it was camouflage. Each object was made to blend in, go unnoticed, even if it was forgotten by wizards and somehow eventually found its way into a Muggle's hands. Muggles could go on for years without ever knowing that one of the family heirlooms was actually overflowing with powerful, ancient magic (and there was a department at the Ministry to deal with it when this day came, because most Muggles found out by means of some unpleasant surprise).

"It looks like a bunch of rubbish," Peter said, frowning.

"Of course it does, idiot. Magical artifacts are supposed to—"

"Please don't explain what the rest of already know," Sirius grumbled, and then he grabbed the first thing he could out of the trunk. It was a penknife, and he flicked it open without much regard for safety—a flashing blade appeared.

Sirius Black was James Potter's best friend and partner in crime, but in terms of outward appearances, he was his polar opposite. While James looked a little young for his age, Sirius Black was the youngest out of all of them and yet still looked like a teenager already. He regularly wore clothing that made him look like a motorcycle gang member, just to rebel against his parents. This included sporting everything from dog collars to leather jackets, and he'd grown his dark hair to what his family, the noble Black family, would have considered a quite unruly and dangerous length—below his ears. His grey eyes helped, of course, when he feigned maturity, even when he was rolling dungbombs under Professor Flitwick's desk during charms and blaming it on someone else when the room started to smell like rotten fish.

"What's this do, besides stab people?" asked Sirius.

"_That_," said James, "is extremely useful. That thing can bust any lock, unknot any knot. Probably cut anything you can imagine. It's also got probably a thousand attachments in there for everything you'd ever need."

Sirius looked at it, and flipped down the blade. A nasty looking hook replaced it.

"This thing is _brilliant_."

"It's yours then," declared James.

James Potter was probably the stupidest looking boy ever in the history of Hogwarts, and Remus let him know this on a fairly regular basis. James was only about two weeks younger than Remus was, but he still had this awkward, childish look about him, and he dressed in such a way that made you feel like he never actually looked at what he was putting on in the mornings. His face was too thin, he wore glasses too large for his face, and his black hair always looked like it either in need of cutting or being introduced to a comb.

"Wha—_no_. Really? Honest?"

Sirius looked like he hadn't been quite so happy in a long time, and that was probably true. In his summer letters, Sirius had described his break as miserable and unbearably long, now that his family had at last discovered that he had been sorted into Gryffindor House (they'd known since the Easter holidays of last year, but he hadn't had to face them until June). While the Gryffindors, once the shock had warn off, had proudly accepted the clever and amusing Sirius Black as one of their own, his own family had quite the opposite reaction. They were now treating even their house-elf better than him, and that, Sirius had let them know, was saying something.

'Don't worry though,' the letters had said, because Andromeda had made every excuse to take him away from Grimmauld Place during the summer holidays. Of course, Andromeda was now in trouble with _her_ family too: she had been caught snogging a Muggle-born named Ted Tonks at the beginning of August, and Sirius had cheerfully reported that her father nearly had a heart attack when he caught wind of it.

"Sure. Take it. Anything for my best mate," said James, and he seemed satisfied by the thunderstruck look on Sirius' face.

"Where's the one you've been dying to show us?" asked Remus, who snatched up a harmless looking quill.

"You want that one?"

"What? I'm just looking at it."

"I might as well give something to everyone, Remus. Don't want anyone to feel left out, do I?"

"What's it do?" asked Remus.

"Er, I can't really describe it too easily," James said, frowning slightly. "But I've been calling it the Backwards Quill. See, because you don't write words with it, you—_listen_ to words with it. Hear stories, you know?"

"I'm not following," Peter announced.

"Well, I was toying with it," James explained, "trying to see if it would do anything funny when I tried to write with it, you know? But the only dodgy thing I could tell was that it wouldn't hold any ink. I thought it was cursed or something, but come on, who curses a quill to repel ink? Whoever did _that_ must have been extremely passive-aggressive toward some poor bloke.

"Then, by complete accident, I touched the tip of the quill against my broom. It was completely mad—all of a sudden I could hear in my head this story, like. I was getting the complete history of my broom repeated to me, and all the spells that had been used to put together, and just a whole bunch of other stuff. That's how I figured out what it did."

Remus looked with suspicion at the quill, wondering if something powerful enough for that sort of effect could be harmless.

"Well," James continued, "then, I tried putting it on something else, and I got a story out of that too. And when you touch it on a book or summat you get the words read to you. I don't get what the hell the point is, but I bet it'd make studying for a test easier if you touched it to your notes, at least."

"Does it work on people?" Remus asked, and he prodded Peter in the forehead with it. Peter gave it a cross-eyed look.

"If you're trying to read his thoughts, he doesn't have any," Sirius said, and he stole the Backwards Quill from Remus while James gave a playful nod and Peter grumbled. Sirius tapped the quill on his penknife, paused for a moment, and said "whoa."

"You get its whole history, don't you?" James said brightly.

"That's actually pretty neat," admitted Sirius. "A bit too nerdy for _me_, personally, but Lupin'll get some use out of it, I bet—"

"I think I'll take it," Remus said, grabbing the quill back from Sirius with a smile.

"And now that you've all had a go at me," Peter said grumpily, reaching into the trunk, "how about I take whatever this is?"

He held a small, square mirror in his hands.

"Not that one you can't," snapped James, but in the friendliest way possible, as he snatched it back from him. "Here, take it Sirius. I was saving these for us to use."

James fished around in his trunk for something as Sirius was handed the mirror. Sirius gave it a sour look.

"Gee, thanks _Jamie_, I've always wanted a mirror to carry around in my purse."

"Shut up, will you? I'm not giving it to you so you can put on your makeup. Here, pay attention for a second."

James had pulled out from his trunk another, identical mirror. He looked around, gave everyone a meaningful grin, and put the mirror up to his face.

"Sirius Black," he told it.

"_Cor!_" Sirius yelped, nearly dropping his mirror. Remus and Peter craned their necks: the mirror no longer reflected Sirius' face, but James'.

"See?" James said.

"I don't get it," said Peter.

"Yeah," Sirius muttered, squinting at the mirror like there had to be something more interesting about it, "I don't want to watch _you_ putting on your makeup either."

"These things are communication devices," snorted James. "You say the name of the person who's holding the other mirror, and you can talk to whoever's on the other side. We could use them in detention and no one would ever cotton on."

Now that James mentioned it, Remus could tell that everything James said was also being repeated by Sirius' mirror, about half a second later. Sirius now looked at his mirror with increased respect.

"Well, if you put it that way," Sirius said approvingly, and he moved his mirror so that it caught the light from the window and shined. "That's not a bad idea, Potter."

"I also had a few other ideas for them," James said with a playful look. "But that involves plans which I have yet to reveal."

"Why not?"

"I've got to build up the suspense first," said James, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What _can_ I have?" Peter interrupted, sounding disappointed.

There was also Peter Pettigrew, mousy haired and sometimes a bit twitchy, but a good friend, and someone you could talk to. Peter was a poor student, with his strengths including nothing, but he tried very hard just to keep up, and you couldn't say there wasn't any valor in that. Peter was the third addition to the group that Remus had begun to call in his head "the Marauders."

There wasn't really much of a story to why _that_ had started—he'd been flipping through a dictionary and thought the word, aside from sounding cool, described the activities those three regularly participated in quite accurately. The Marauders was an excellent name, Remus thought, for a group that specialized raping and plundering.

And, until recently, Remus had _thought_ he'd wanted no part of it.

"You can pick yours out later," Sirius told Peter impatiently, holding out his penknife. "Potter had better show us what he'd been harping about all summer or else I'm going to put this thing in a place where it wasn't intended to go."

"Alright, alright," James muttered, but he was smiling mischievously all the same. He dove back into his trunk and, after pushing things aside, withdrew something from the very bottom.

"The surprise," James declared.

"That's a—!" Peter said at once.

"Blimey," Sirius gasped.

James held in his hands what appeared to be fabric made from water, folded into a neat square. He shook it open, and the impossibly smooth cloth was so enormous that it poured onto the floor.

"Erm, excuse my ignorance," Remus asked, having no idea what the others were so excited about, other than the thing in James' hands was impressive looking, "but what is it, exactly?"

"Ho ho, you're in for a real treat, Lupin," James said, and he swished the thing over his shoulders.

Remus' mouth dropped open, for James Potter had vanished entirely. It was like a giant eraser had come along and wiped him from existence, or else he was very good at playing hide-and-seek.

"An Invisibility Cloak?" Remus asked, faintly.

"However did you guess?" laughed James' voice. "And I'm modeling it for you now, just to let you know."

Remus laughed too, sort of helplessly, and as they watched James' feet making a circular path of indentations in the rug as he walked, Sirius clapped.

"That is _ace_," Peter sighed.

James tugged the cloak back down around his shoulders, so that his head reappeared. He was grinning wickedly.

"I know it is. I couldn't believe we had one of these. Can you imagine the _possibilities?_"

"Oh my _God_," said Sirius, dropping his hands and gasping, as though he had just realized this. "You're _right_."

"He's _right_," Peter echoed.

"No more sneaking," James said, nodding. "We could waltz right past a teacher and they'd never know. No more worries about Pringle."

"Just imagine," said Peter, dreamily. "We could—we could go out _every night_."

"Not that you weren't already pretty much doing that before," Remus pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but now it'd be even _easier," _said Sirius. "And we could split up even, if we really wanted to, and use those mirrors to—"

"Talk back and forth," supplied James, brightly. "Yeah."

"_Exactly._"

They wiggled their eyebrows at each other.

"This year is going to be so _awesome!_" Sirius said gleefully, and he collapsed backwards back onto his bed. "Oh man oh man, I love the way you think, Potter. I am now convinced we were twins, separated at birth."

"If we were separated at birth, you clearly got the short end of the stick, being a Black," James said. "How tragic."

"Oh shut up, you are drudging up horrible memories and spoiling my happiness. In any case, we have to break this cloak in. Put it to good use. We should go out _tonight_."

James and Peter's eyes brightened at the idea, and Remus spoke out with something that had been gnawing at his brain, like a Doxy that had clamped down with its fangs and was refusing to let go.

"Erm, would it be too much of a bother if—?"

Remus paused, and James looked at him.

"If?" he prompted.

"Well," Remus said quickly, "I was thinking that next time, I wanted to go with you lot, maybe. To—to give it a try, like."

The other boys stared at him.

"Did you hit your head or something?" asked Peter, sounding almost motherly with concern.

"No, I haven't hit my head," said Remus. "It's just—well, it doesn't seem very likely that we'd be caught, if we had that thing, and—"

"You are not the Lupin that I once knew," Sirius said with alarm, blinking at him. "Last year you said, and I quote, 'I think you all are a bunch of idiots' the last time we asked if you wanted to come with."

"Well, maybe I've changed my mind," said Remus, knowing his voice had gone high-pitched. "It'd be safe this time around. Maybe wouldn't mind breaking the rules a little bit."

"Never took you to be the rebellious type, Remus," James said, looking mildly awed. "What's come over you?"

"I can be rebellious when I want," said Remus, peevishly, and the others gave him looks of disbelief.

"He just doesn't want to be left out," Sirius said, teasing, and Remus looked hastily down at the rug.

And then there was Remus J. Lupin, still struggling, still feeling a bit ostracized, still feeling like he couldn't quite trust himself to have friends. But there was a part of him that wanted to try and wanted to believe he could be one of them, and Sirius was more right than he knew.

"Maybe he just wants to see what the school looks like at night," Peter offered helpfully.

"Maybe he's just hit his head and doesn't remember it because of his head trauma," James offered, rather less helpfully.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Remus said. "Maybe I've got whatever disease you all have now, but I really do want to—I mean—aren't we mates?"

He knew that he had made the last word rather desperate sounding, but when he looked around again, the others seemed contemplative.

"Right, well, I wouldn't mind if Lupin came," said Sirius, finally.

"Me neither," Peter said.

"As long as you don't—you know, start shouting our exact coordinates for the whole castle to hear and get us caught," James said, "I wouldn't mind either."

"I can then?" asked Remus excitedly.

"Sure," said James. Then he smiled. "_Well,_ I guess there's been _two _surprises today then, hasn't there? Who knew Remus had guts?"

"You sure you can handle it, Lupin?" Sirius asked, with a wicked look. "You'll risk a beheading by McGonagall, you know."

"I know," said Remus, standing up again. "But—but I think it sounds like it could be fun."

--

--

AN: Rowling confirms that they did in fact call themselves "the Marauders" on her website, but I can't actually imagine James or Sirius or Peter coming up with a word like _Marauders_ to call themselves by. That _had_ to be Remus. :)


	12. Year 2, Halloween: One of Them

**II. One of Them**

There were few things that the Marauders—(Remus had told the others the name, and now it'd stuck)—liked to do once classes were over other than to throw themselves down under a large beech tree on the grounds and enjoy the lazy afternoon. The weather was unusually warm for October, so they had come down from Gryffindor Tower to do just that.

"Quidditch is taking up all of James' time," Sirius complained, referring to the one member of the group who hadn't joined them. Sirius was stretched out on his back and had his eyes closed.

"What's that McCormack thinking?" grumbled Peter, who was plucking at the grass instead of doing his astronomy homework. "We haven't even been back for two months yet and she's trying to kill her own team with all the practices she's having them come to."

"I think she's trying to train all the new players," Remus said thoughtfully. "Half the team graduated last year, didn't they?"

"That's a stupid reason, Lupin. The new players are just going to quit."

"Not James. He's just thick enough to stay on the team regardless of what he's put through. When he told us all he'd been accepted I'd never seen him look happier in his life."

"He looked like he wet himself, I swear."

"He probably _did_ wet himself."

"I knew they were going to let him on, though," said Remus, and his eyes flickered toward the Quidditch pitch, where he could see players soaring through the air above the stands. "You've seen him, right? He's the best Chaser on the team, I bet. They would have let him on last year if it wasn't for that completely arbitrary rule against first years being allowed to pay."

"'_Arbitrary_?'"

"What he means is that it's only a rule because first years suck at everything."

"I always thought it was because they don't want anyone's mum crying because her kid broke an arm barely a week into their Hogwarts' career. Stupid parents, I tell you, thinking Quidditch is a dangerous sport..."

"It's not the only dangerous sport around here," Remus said darkly. On the other side of the lake, he could see a few students at the edge of the Whomping Willow, and it appeared that they were all taking turns to see how close they dared to go before they risked getting a few internal organs ripped out.

"What? Are those idiots at it again?"

"Looks like it. Wow, at that tiny one go. She's about to make it almost half—no, she's turned around, the chicken..."

No one ever made it more than half way, and for this, Remus was very glad. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if someone actually got lucky enough to get to the trunk without being decapitated, or if someone hit that tiny knot among the roots...

"Alright, some first year just went up. He doesn't seem to have a strategy, but let's see how far he can go."

"He's running—dodging—woo, just made it past that one!"

"Watch out for that branch above your—!"

"Oh, he just got hit in the stomach! Ouch!"

"Can we stop with the running commentary?" Remus said crabbily.

"I suppose so," said Sirius, teasing. He rolled over onto his stomach.

"I need to get back to this anyway," Peter sighed, and he picked up his homework. "Who the hell cares about the moon's cycles, honestly?"

"Probably no one," Remus assured him with a crooked smile.

"All I know is that it looks different on different nights," Sirius commented lazily.

"That sums up what I know about it too," Peter said despairingly. "What'd you write down for the 'Why The Moon Has Phases' essay, Sirius?"

"Something like, 'there are many great mysteries in the universe, and this bizarre phenomenon is one of them…'"

Remus snorted.

"You didn't."

"I _did_."

"Didn't you say you had a good grade in astronomy?"

"Of course I do, O ye of little faith. I happen to know that Professor Sinistra doesn't even most of our assignments. I've been writing nonsense on my papers ever since first year."

"I guess you of all people would know about cutting corners—"

"Hold on," said Peter.

Sirius and Remus looked at him. Peter was holding out his lunar calendar at an arm's length and staring at it as though it had just slapped him in the face.

"What?" asked Remus.

"Last month," Peter began.

There came a yell, and he never finished. There were momentarily distracted by an eruption of screams coming from around the Whomping Willow. One of the boys was lying face down on the grass, not moving.

"Oh Christ," said Sirius.

* * *

"Wands?

"Check."

"Mirrors?"

"_Check_ for god's sake! We're not going to get separated!"

"Fine, Black. Have it your way. Now—hold on… where's the cloak?"

"You're _wearing_ it, James," Sirius groaned, exasperated. It was hard to not notice that James currently only existed as a floating head.

"Oh, right," said James, looking sheepish. Then he glanced at the others. "Ready?"

"We're ready, already! We were ready five minutes ago, but Pete had to go to the loo!"

"I can't help it!"

"Shut up! Do you want us to be heard?"

"If you're all gonna pick on me—!"

"That's it! We're going!"

James kicked open the portrait hole, and the Fat Lady could be heard gasping. The Marauders filed out, made sure the cloak was properly arranged, and hurried down the corridor.

"Who's there?" the Fat Lady asked with a suspicious look, and she swung her portrait closed.

"No one," Sirius answered, and James hit him.

Tonight would mark the first of the Marauders' many midnight forays into the castle. Today was only a test run—they were going to take a relatively safe route straight to the kitchens, and see what there was to be had that they could eat. James and Sirius had done this a dozen times already without the help of the Invisibility Cloak, but now that they had one, they'd managed to convince the others to join in. Remus, against his usually sound judgment, had come along for the purely academic reason of wanting to know whether all four of them could do this and get away with it.

That was what he kept telling himself, anyway.

"Where _are_ the kitchens, exactly?" Remus asked quietly.

"Directly below the Great Hall."

"I've been down there and I never saw any kitchen..."

"If they put it in plain sight, _anyone_ could be knicking food. It's pretty well hidden, but my dad was the one that told me how to get in."

"How'd _he_ know?"

"He said he read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_." James shrugged.

"That'd be a good place to write down a secret," Sirius whispered, "Seeing as no kid in the right mind would read something like that."

Remus gave a deliberate cough.

"Oh, sorry. No kid besides Loony Lupin here."

Somewhere far away, it sounded like a door had closed. Peter immediately attached himself to Remus' arm.

"Shut up," James murmured, so they did.

They managed to reach the kitchens without a hitch, however, and James finally stopped them in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit. He gave everyone a look and then reached up, tickled—quite honestly and literally tickled—a pear on the left side of the painting. They watched as the fruit giggled and a door handle appeared.

"This is it," James whispered, slipping the cloak off. He opened the door.

The kitchen was just as large as the Great Hall above. There were pots and pans everywhere, on the walls and on the gigantic tables in the middle of the room, and in the hands of a hundred house-elves, who were still cleaning up. Golden plates piled high with uneaten food were being carted back and forth, and on the far end of the room, there was a massive brick fireplace, where the morning's porridge was already simmering in massive pots.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Black!"

Remus had never seen a house-elf up close before, so it was quite a shock to him when a mob of house-elves was suddenly crowding around him. They were odd creatures that came up to Remus' waist, with wide, excited eyes and bits of cloth serving as clothing. He had always thought that a house-elf would be miserable to be working all the time, but each and every one of them looked positively delighted.

"Hey everyone," said Sirius. He patted a house-elf on the head and had to pry another one off of his leg. "Doing alright?"

"Yes, yes!" they chorused, and Remus could see that James and Sirius had come to the kitchens often enough that the house-elves seemed to know the drill. Butterbeers were already being passed to them, and food was making its way across the sea of hands.

"We should introduce everyone to our good friends," James said, popping off a bottle cap. "This here next to me is Peter Pettigrew, and by Sirius is Remus Lupin."

"Friends of yours are friends of ours!" a house-elf squeaked cheerfully.

"They're very brave to come here so late!" squeaked another.

"Are they bad boys like James Potter and Sirius Black?" a house-elf at Peter's knee asked warmly.

"I'd like to think not," Remus said, and he took his third plate of food, despite not actually having any more hands. "You guys are very… er, enthusiastic."

"Kind people deserve kind treatment!" said the house-elves, and they ushered the boy over to a set of chairs they had conjured up. "Now eat! Eat, eat! Young boys need lots of food to grow up big!"

"That's for sure," agreed Sirius, and he bit into a turkey leg.

Remus looked down at the food he'd been given, and suddenly felt guilty. The house-elves may have been more than eager to cook a feast for them, but it was still against the rules, and he felt undeserving of their kindness, and Hogwarts would still have to pay for this food…

"I shouldn't," said Remus. "This is… this is _stealing_."

"Find him something chocolate to eat and he'll change his tune," James said, pointing with his fork. "We can't have Lupin not enjoying what you guys put together for us."

"Chocolate! Chocolate! Something chocolate!"

"No, you really don't have t—"

Remus Lupin may have had strict ethical standards that he adhered to at one point, but he took one look at the mountain of chocolate cake he was presented with and forgot all about him. It was an enormous slab of what could only be described as the Holy Grail of cakes, with thick chocolate frosting, chocolate syrup dizzled everywhere, and with so many chocolate shavings garnishing the top it was a miracle the whole thing didn't collapse from the weight of its own chocolatey goodness.

"Oh _god_. I'm the worst person alive but—oh God that looks _delicious_."

"See? Rule breaking has its perks," laughed Sirius.

"Feels good to be bad, eh, Lupin?" asked James, and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Amen," said Peter and Sirius, and the house-elves gave a triumphant cheer as Remus folded completely to the cake's temptation and ate.

--

--

AN: This chapter is so disjointed! x_x

The word "marauder" is synonymous with robber, looter, pillager, or raider. Now you know!


	13. Year 2, Halloween: Question

**III. Question**

Peter was on his right, kneeling a bit, looking ready to pounce and hold him down by the wrists. Sirius was a bit closer, and standing so that he formed a solid barrier of twelve year old to the left—the direction of the door. Finally there was James, with a hand wrapped almost too casually around a post at the foot of the bed, covering the final way of escape. Remus should have recognized that all three of them looked like they were in a very common formation that chasers might use on the Quidditch field. He also should have recognized—if he'd been thinking—that he'd been set up.

"Er… Lupin?"

"What?" asked Remus. He still had his nose in his book, and was hoping that this would be brief, because he'd just gotten to a good part.

"Well," James said uneasily, "Can we… er… have a chat?"

Remus raised an eyebrow at them.

"Which one of you's been expelled?"

"Ha ha, Remus Lupin, you are quite the joker."

"It's nothing like that. We just… well, we should talk. Somewhere private. Don't want anyone walking in, you know."

"What's the matter, then? What can't we talk right—? "

"We should _really_ discuss this somewhere else," Sirius said tersely.

Remus surveyed his friends again, determined that this was either going to be a stupid prank or his mates had all gone mad, and then gave up on being able to return to his reading. He slowly placed his bookmark, closed the book, and set it down on his bedside table.

"Er, I can't get up with you lot surrounding me."

"Oh! Right, right you are…"

Sirius backed up, a little too slowly, and Remus swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Everyone had their eyes on him.

"What's the joke?"

"No joke," Peter said.

"But I've never seen any of you look so serious. So this is either a joke or someone's died."

"It's neither," James said, now sounding a bit annoyed. "Just… well, c'mon, we'll use the cloak and find a nice empty place outside where we can talk."

"Er… alright…"

Maybe no one had died, but it certainly felt like death as James pulled the cloak over his head and then told everyone to get underneath as well. Somehow, it felt like a tighter fit than usual.

Together, all four boys marched down from the dormitories, and dodged a few stragglers that were still milling around in the common room after the Halloween banquet. They waited until everyone was looking the other way so that no one would start asking dodgy questions about why the portrait in front of the portrait hole had just swung open on its own accord, crawled out, and then swiftly made their way downstairs.

Remus noticed that Peter seemed to be awfully jittery, but he was like that almost all the time, and that did not bother him. It was only when he realized that Sirius was breathing hard beside him that he suddenly knew that there was _no way _he could be faking anxiety that well. It was _Sirius_ after all, the criminally bad actor, the one that tried to get out of trouble by lying, but his lies were about as convincing as the Whomping Willow was harmless.

Remus began to worry that he was going to hear some bad news.

They exited the castle, and the crisp evening air threatened to blow the Invisibility Cloak from the ground and reveal four pairs of disembodied feet. James nodded towards a shadowy little area where there weren't any windows nearby, and they bee-lined toward it.

"Christ that thing is hot," Sirius complained as he threw off his portion of the cloak, and Remus was confused, because the cloak was actually very cool to the touch.

"Keep your voice down," James reminded him, and they settled into an alcove, though Remus was the only one to sit down on a bit of architecture that jutted out from the wall.

"Alright," he said, "Tell me what you've got to say because I'm thinking you're all just mental."

The other boys looked at each other. Peter, who still had the cloak hanging from one of his shoulders, looked like he's been cut in half.

"One of your mums have died," Remus suggested, wondering if they were ever going to get anywhere with this.

"No. Lupin—"

"The house-elves in the kitchens are refusing to hand over anymore food."

"No—"

"One of you is about to express your undying love for me?"

"Lupin," Sirius griped suddenly, "If you'd just shut your mouth for _one buggering minute_ maybe we could say what it is."

Remus shut his mouth.

"Alright," breathed James. He looked like he might possibly say something, but then his eyes went wide, and he swayed on the spot, He asked, "Well?"

"'Well' _what_?" Peter said, looking faint.

"Who's going to say it?" James clarified.

"You know bloody well who's gonna say it," Sirius threatened.

"Maybe I changed my mind."

"_You_ were the one that decided we needed to do this. _You_ were the one that came up with the plan. _You_ ask."

James clenched his fists, but then gave up.

"Well," he began, stopping to think after every word, "We've come to a conclusion."

"A conclusion," repeated Remus.

"Yes. And, I mean, we have come to this… this conclusion… and by we I mean all three of us… and, well, this conclusion is based on… based on things, you know…"

"Observations," Sirius supplied. Peter nodded feverishly.

"Facts, even," he offered.

"Yeah, those," said James. "We've made a conclusion based on observations and facts. And, er, well… we all think that you could tell us for sure, and, if it turns out that this is all… and, wow, we're going to look like the biggest arses ever if we are…"

Looking around, Remus could see that everyone was wearing an oh-yeah-I-will-most-definitely-look-like-arse sort of expression.

"And, I mean, there's no way around it…"

Suddenly, Remus' intestines had bundled themselves up into knots. A burble of acid at the pit of his stomach was at the ready, so that he could start vomiting at a moment's notice. His brain froze over with the realization even before he could form the exact words to the forbidden question in his mind—

"Remus—"

Nothing good was going to come of this, if James was using his first name.

"A werewolf—a-are you?"

There was a pause in which all that can be heard was an owl, hooting in the distance.

Remus was suddenly detached from himself. Instead, a stranger had taken his place, a stranger that believed that question was only scary because it's lack of grammatical sense. A strange that wasn't hoping beyond hope that they had confused April Fool's Day with Halloween. A stranger who hadn't been discovered for what he really was by a group of twelve year olds that didn't even have enough sense to keep from getting caught every time they dropped unpleasant things into Severus Snape's bag.

The stranger remained calm, and asked the next question as objectively as possible.

"Why are you asking?"

Oddly, this stranger seemed to have Remus' voice.

"Oh," said James, clearly never having considered that he was going to have to explain anything. "Well, I mean, Christ, you're gone once a month, for one thing…"

"I checked the lunar charts when we were doing that one bit of homework," Peter told him nervously. "And, and I thought it was odd that you weren't just gone once a month, you were gone whenever the moon was full, you know? I mean, if it happens once or twice it's not any big deal, but after five times it's not a coincidence anymore, and you've been out on the full moon at least seven times that I can confirm—"

"We still gave you the benefit of the doubt, though," Sirius said. He looked embarrassed. "Maybe you enjoyed visiting your mum on the full moon, you know? What if your mum loved nothing more than to gaze up at the full moon with her son whenever she got the chance, or something like that? Any explanation would do."

"But then that didn't explain that you always looked scratched up when you came back—"

"And then I asked Lily if she knew any details about your mum a few days ago," James said apologetically, "Because, well, I wanted to know, but I didn't want to pry into your personal life directly. And then Lily thought it was awfully strange that I was under the impression that your mum was ill, because you had apparently told her that she has a full-time job. I told her that it must have happened suddenly, but it all seemed very dodgy, because you said she'd been sick for a long time, and wouldn't you have mentioned it to her?"

"I thought maybe you were a chronic liar at that point," admitted Peter.

"My theory was that you just liked skipping class." Sirius shrugged.

"But then that didn't explain why you were disappearing when the moon was full."

"That was when we first seriously thought that you could be one. A werewolf, that is."

"And then we tried to research werewolves in the library to see if anything else fit, but we hoped everything was just a coincidence, really. We wanted the answer to be anything but what we were suspecting."

"We asked Madam Pince to help us, and she seemed to wonder where _you_ were, and I suppose she was flattered that _we_ were in there and our bookworm friend wasn't—"

"We weren't about to invite you along if we were gathering information about you, of course—"

"Thank you, Peter, or should I say, _King of Obvious_—"

"I was just saying—"

"_Shut up_. Okay, and then I say, 'I want to do some research on werewolves,' and she immediately wets herself. I was convinced at that point."

"Me too."

"Me three."

"We all were," James finished, and then everyone was looking Remus right in the eye. "So, just tell us the truth, and if we're wrong, we won't say another word about it if you want, but I mean, if we're—"

James didn't seem to want to consider that they might be correct, because he didn't finish his sentence. No one started any additional sentences either, so there was a long bout of silence.

"Are you or aren't you?" Sirius asked finally, looking uneasy. "Just tell us."

Remus slid back into his own body, and finally, after going through various states of doubt, denial, and disbelief, which were really identical emotions but he felt each of them all the same, he finally spoke.

"Well there you have it," he said.

Everyone blinked at him.

"_What_?" James ventured.

"You win," Remus said. His voice is trembled. "Game's over. Jig's up!"

"Er," Peter said hesitantly.

"You're the big winners! You get the grand prize! You've all been marvelous contestants—"

"Stop," Sirius ordered him, and he is just as serious as his name is, as if puns were actually funny when Remus Lupin was having a meltdown.

"Well _excuse me_!" said Remus, who knew just as well as everyone else that he was going into hysterics. "Excuse me if I'm not taking this all that well! I guess you all want me to skip with glee that you're telling me this! _Sodding hell_! You blokes are the most brilliant lot around, _congratulations_!"

Sirius took a sudden step backwards.

"Oh bloody mother of—" he exclaimed, "He _is_."

"Merlin's—" said James, and his eyebrows went up so high on his forehead they could have broken off from the strain. "_No_. There is no way that's even—"

"W-wait," Peter stammered. "He hasn't even said for certain—"

"I _AM_, ALRIGHT?" Remus shouted, and he got up from his seat and moved away from them because he was about to burst into tears, and that was going to be the opposite of helpful if anyone saw. "_Jesus buggering Christ_—"

"Blimey," gasped Peter, but no one seemed to realize that Remus didn't want anyone to come running up and reform their semi-circle around him, because that's exactly what they did.

"You're serious? Y-you're honestly—_honestly _a—?"

"Cripes, I don't think I've _ever_ known a—"

"How the hell is no one at this school dead yet, if you're a—?"

The word repeated in his mind endlessly, as if there was chanting.

_Werewolf._

_Werewolf._

_Werewolf._

_Werewolf._

He was terrified. Terrified of what would happen next. He couldn't bare the thought of losing everything he had wanted so badly. Magic, Hogwarts, Friends. All of those things, one by one, would be stripped away again, and it was his fault. He had let his secret slip. He'd been too stupid to keep it safe. He would leave here, and go back to that world where those things hadn't existed for him. He would be shunned and unnoticed again, sick and yet uncared for, locked up in a tool shed on the nights when the moon was full and given frightened looks by his own family.

Because he, Remus J. Lupin, was a werewolf.

--

--

AN: Haha, this ended up being the 13th chapter. Didn't do that on purpose!  
Review please.


	14. Year 2, Halloween: Wishing

**IV. Wishing**

"Do people _know_?" Peter questioned, waving his arms. "I mean, do people know that you're a—"

"_Of course they know_," Remus answered scathingly at last, "All of the teachers know, and now _you_ know and now everyone at Hogwarts is going to know and then—"

"You think we can't keep our bloody mouths shut?" argued James, suddenly mad. "If we told anyone they'd just shit their pants, that's what they'd do— I very nearly shat _mine_ just a second ago, thank you!"

"Why can't you have told us before now?" Sirius yelled. "We're you're friends!"

"I can't tell _anyone_!" Remus snapped, "That was the agreement!"

"Agreement? What _agreement_?"

"The agreement that let me come here!" he said, his voice rough and crackling. "God, do _any_ of you have _any_ idea how hard my parents had to work to even let the headmaster hear my case, back before Professor Dumbledore was here? I'm here because of _him_! He said I could come to Hogwarts as long as I kept my_ mouth shut _andfollowed the rules and now I might as well _pack my bags_ because _apparently_ I can't keep a secret from _anybody_!"

"You didn't tell us," Peter reasoned. "We figured it out on our own. You didn't do anything wrong—"

"But if I'd just—!"

Remus slammed his fist into the stone wall beside him and instantly regretted it when two of his knuckles split open. He hissed angrily at himself, and the world, and his stupid, rotten luck. His eyes turned misty, and then they were streaming, and he had to swallow a sob.

"If I'd just kept away from you lot, none of you would know right now. _It wouldn't all be over right now!_ If I'd just been _smart_ and kept away from everyone like I was supposed to—how I still _ought_ to—"

"Well you screwed up and became our friend then," James said firmly. "And we don't _want_ you to stay away from us."

"Do you not get it? Do you honestly not get that _I am a werewolf_?"

"I get it just fine," rumbled Sirius. "You say you're a werewolf, so you're a werewolf. Well, you're just _Remus_ right now, aren't you?"

"That's not the _point_. The point is that _I turn into a monster that wants to rip people apart_ once a month! When I'm transform I don't want to do anything short of hunting down _human beings_ and _mauling them to death_, and as clever as you all are for having figured me out, you apparently don't understand that—!"

"_And you haven't done any of that so far, or else we'd have heard about it_!" James bellowed. "I don't know what the hell the details are, but if no one's been hurt, then there's no reason why you can't be at Hogwarts, and there's no reason why you can't hang out with us either!"

Remus hesitated just long enough to take a shaky breath and suck on his bleeding hand.

He wished he had more _control_ over things. He wished he could break everything in sight and start over again, and meld himself a new universe. It would be a universe where he was never bitten, a universe where that silent summer evening that had changed his life was wiped away from history, a universe in which werewolves didn't even _exist_. He wanted to make a new world where people were kind to him, where people liked him, and he would be surrounded by these brilliant people all the time. They would never turn their backs on him because of what he was. They wouldn't desert him, like everyone else.

He wished for a world like that more than anything.

"And I think you should let us in on the bloody details too," Sirius added, making an angry gesture. "If we know this much, I think you should tell us the whole story."

"Remus, we seriously want to know," said Peter. "Tell us the truth, tell us _everything_."

"And I'll promise," James said, "That we'll never even consider abandoning you. We'll stick with you regardless of what you tell us."

They were incredibly daft. How couldn't they see the things that he did? Why couldn't they see that he wouldn't last another day here at Hogwarts? Why couldn't these friends of his understand they would be gone from his life by tomorrow? Why couldn't they realize that when the sun rose again, he would have to hand in his wand? Remus was frightened of all of these things, and yet his friends had never been more eager in their lives. They couldn't comprehend how unbelievably scary it all was.

_Then I will _make_ them scared._

"Fine," declared Remus, and he sniffed, trying to keep his nose from dripping.

The boys were shocked it was so easy.

"Fine then. Fine. The details, fine. The damage is already done and I can't possibly do anymore, can I?"

He took the Invisibility Cloak from Peter.

"We're going on a field trip."

--

They were positively baffled. Remus, the Remus who had never been bossy or demanding in his life, did not accept any questions as he led the others down the moist lawn and to an unknown place. The ground was uneven, and even the fact that Sirius had lit his wand under the cloak was not helping, since it didn't do much but give them idea of what the ground looked like immediately under their feet.

"Sirius, stop it," James complained finally, but managed to remember to keep his voice down. "You're making me go blind."

"It's your fault for staring at it."

It was true—James looked at it with round eyes, like a mesmerized and highly confused deer.

"But it's very shiny and therefore it wants me to look at it," James whispered.

"Put it out," Remus told him. "Please."

"_Nox_," Sirius said, and the light vanished. "Got to listen to what he says, mates. Wouldn't want to get werewolf boy angry."

Remus treaded on his foot, hoping he could permanently flatten it. How could they be so _flippant_ about this?

"You all say you can keep your mouths shut and yet you start up with that!"

"Then we'll think of a new, more subtle nickname," James said.

"Wolf boy?" Peter offered.

"Subtle means less obvious, not _shorter_," said Sirius. "And I personally wouldn't stand to call him that if we could easily call him wolfy boy and make it that much cuter."

"How about moon boy?"

"Wereboy?"

"The 'were' in 'werewolf' means man," Remus said, exasperated, but not enough to let this debauchery of word meanings go on. "It wouldn't make sense to call me 'manboy'—"

"Wouldn't make any sense at all, seeing as you're neither," James said ruefully. "Wereboy doesn't work anyway, because that one's _way_ too obvious. Moon boy is the best one we've got, I think, and it's not just because it was my idea. Well, mostly because it was my idea."

"Alright, moon boy for now."

"Please don't," Remus said under his breath.

"Moon boy," Peter said, trying it out.

"Moon boy," repeated Sirius. "Moon boy! Ha ha."

"You could make a song out of it," James suggested. "_Moon boy, moony_—"

"_Shut up_!" Remus said, and then, "We're here."

They had come to a place where only the bravest of souls would tread ever since last week's incident. They were standing about twenty meters from the Whomping Willow, and the tree was already swinging toward them, but they were as of yet out of its reach.

"You are _mental_," Peter hissed.

"Moon boy's a regular lunatic," James breathed, and then, when no one laughed, he explained, "It's funny because of the etymology of that word."

"I think I was the only one that got it and I am still not humored," Remus said grimly, and he took another step forward. A tree branch lashed out.

"Okay," Sirius said shrilly, "It looks an awful lot like you're about to get us all killed, so I can't say I'm too keen on going on this field trip anymore."

"Scared? A bunch of chickens?" Remus asked, hoping that would get them riled up.

"Yes I'm scared, you loony," said James, his face paling.

"Once upon a time, there was a handsome young lad named Davy Gudgeon—" Sirius began.

"And why do you think this tree was planted here, if it's gone and hurt someone?" Remus asked them. "Would Professor Dumbledore have this tree planted if it wasn't for a good reason?"

"I just assumed he was barking. I didn't assume _you_ were barking. What exactly are you trying to do, assuming your plan isn't to commit suicide?"

"We're going up there," Remus responded. "See that gap between those roots in front of us? That's where we're headed."

"I think I've had enough of your barking for one day, I want to go back in," Peter whined.

"I can't argue with the man."

"You'll see," Remus said, and then, just as he had seen Madam Pomfrey do many times, he enchanted a stick to fly at the tree, dodge the flailing branches and leaves, and strike something at the tree's base.

The tree immediately froze in what it was doing and remained perfectly still. It was as if it had simply grown in such a way that it looked like it wanted to pummel someone, but was otherwise a perfectly normal, innocent tree.

"Oh god _what did you do_?" asked Peter.

"He's killed it," Sirius said frantically. "He's killed it—!"

"No, I think he's just made it reconsider being a murderous brute," James said, and he gazed up at it, awestruck. "He's hit its happy spot?"

"Now we can get in," said Remus, and moved as quickly as he could with a cloak over him and his friends, who seemed to flinch every time the wind rustled the Willow's leaves. Remus pushed James into the gap between the roots first, and then everyone else in turn. He finally climbed in himself just as the tree seemed to be shaking off its spell.

"How the hell did you know about—what _is_ this? It's like a tunnel or—"

"I transform in here," Remus explained, putting the cloak under his arm and taking great joy in seeing everyone's shocked face. "This tree was planted here because of _me_."

He found himself almost _wanting_ them to run away. He wanted to be _right_. He wanted them to prove what he'd known all along—that no one would ever be accepting of a monster.

"_Here_? Right _here_?"

"No, a further down. Where the tunnel ends."

"What's down there?"

"You'll have to see it for yourself. Light your wands and try to watch yourself, you can walk straight into a wall if you don't know your way—"

"_Lumos_," said four voices at once, and Remus had them running down the narrow, earthy passage. The Whomping Willow was apparently now throwing a temper tantrum outside, because they could hear twigs snapping with an alarming frequency above their heads.

"It doesn't like to fail at its job," Remus huffed. "I've never seen it so mad."

"Are we the first ones to have ever made it this far?"

"Far as I know," he answered, and the Marauders grinned at him through the dim light, obviously feeling a sense of accomplishment. Remus turned his head back in front of him to watch what he was doing, wondering what they would do when they saw what was up ahead.

--

--

AN: Hopefully this chapter seems a little lighter!  
R&R!


	15. Year 2, Halloween: A Beginning!

**V. A Beginning!**

By sprinting, instead of going along at Madam Pomfrey's maximum speed of a leisurely trot, they made it to the Shack in almost half the time it usually took. James, Sirius and Peter were all out of breath after ten minutes of hard running, but Remus had already recovered after a few winded breaths

"This is the Shrieking Shack," he said. "Right here is the back door. Madam Pomfrey takes me here to transform every month."

"That—that's what… this is? That… place in Hogsmeade?" asked Sirius, bent over and half-dead.

"This is a brilliant place to transform, though," James panted, but Quidditch practice seemed to have done him some good. "Who'd come in, with all the crazy ghosts in there? Nobody, that's who."

"There _aren't_ any ghosts. The Shrieking Shack isn't haunted. Those are all just rumors."

"But I heard," Peter wheezed, "But I heard… people say… yells… noises…!"

"But they only happen once a month, at the full moon. It's me screaming, because it's terribly painful. The noises aren't _ghosts_."

Sirius and James looked at each other.

"How—how _do_ you transform?"

"I do that inside."

They were escorted indoors, and in the same way he might be embarrassed if his friends visited his bedroom and saw how messy it was, Remus felt almost embarrassed about the broken furniture and peeling wallpaper. He looked at the Marauders with apprehension, wondering if they'd be scared or disgusted, and realized something strange.

_No one seemed even remotely bothered by anything_. They were in fact staring around at the ruined décor in awe, and they didn't even react as they stepped around cushions with the stuffing exploding out of them and the piano that looked as if it had been smashed with a wrecking ball. Remus partially wanted to shout '_are you just that incredibly thick_?' into each of their faces, but he was beginning to get the feeling that his friends wouldn't have been scared by any of this even if he transformed right then and bit one of their heads off. They would probably even laugh.

And that made him extraordinarily happy.

"This is so ace," Peter sighed, finally able to use his lungs again. "I mean… look at it!"

"Who the hell caused all this damage?" asked Sirius, kicking over what was left of a rocking chair.

"I did."

"_Whoa._"

"I take back what I said about you not being a manboy," James said with admiration. He looked at a table that had been completely demolished, and a grandfather clock that had seen better days—its springs and wheels were spilling out like it'd be gutted.

"This is so bloody _ace_," Peter groaned.

"Moony, you just became brill," Sirius said, grinning at a candle bracket that had been sliced in half.

"I was always brill," he said prudishly, but then he laughed. He couldn't believe it—they were all morons of course, who were never afraid when other people are, but they had seen all this, and yet they weren't freaking out, and they weren't running away from him. They thought he was _brill._

Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps he had been too quick to judge. Perhaps he had never considered the existence of these three incredible people—these incredible people who defied logic. Perhaps for today he would go without vindication, and he would be elated if he did. He would be filled by an alien feeling of joy.

Maybe they _could_ keep a secret. They could keep this a secret between the four of them. Then Remus could stay at Hogwarts, and keep his friends, and do magic, and be happy in this new found world where Remus was a normal boy twenty nine days out of every month, and he could consider his transformations to be just little hiccups in a state of constant bliss.

"Was that a _chortle_?" asked James. "Oh good, now we know he isn't angry anymore."

"Will you answer our questions? We've got loads of them," Peter said, looking excited.

Remus gazed at all of them, but then folded him arms over his chest and resigned himself to answering. He nodded.

"Alright, first. Does this mean your mother isn't really ill?"

Remus sighed heavily.

"Yes, I lied. My mother is in perfectly good health, I just—"

"You were really scared, yeah, yeah, we get it," James said, and he grinned. "No hard feelings, alright? We forgive you."

"So how do you transform?" Sirius asked.

"Er—when the moonlight appears over the horizon, I start to shift. It's usually the hair that grows first, and then my insides start changing. It's slow to start, and it takes probably… anywhere from two to four minutes, depending on the time of year. And then it gets more or less painful, depending on the conditions… changing under the harvest moon in particular is never fun."

"Do you only change when it's a full moon, or can you change whenever?"

"Only at the full moon," Remus said, shivering. "I can't imagine wanting to change at will even if I could. It hurts, like I said."

"What does a werewolf look like?"

"Like a regular wolf but with a few differences, like the teeth and tail. I guess I'd be meaner looking too."

"What do you think when you're a werewolf? I mean, do you just want to bite people? What goes through your head?"

"Mostly you just feel like, really angry. And I don't mean ticked off angry, I mean more like, _kill-everything-in-sight_ angry. You just want to rip stuff up, and as you can see, that's exactly what I end up doing. Some werewolves manage to have more control over what they do, but those people are more powerful wizards than I am. I can't even remember most of what I do when I transform…"

"Are the werewolf myths true?"

"Which ones?"

"If I doused you with holy water, or touched you with a cross, would you die?"

"You're confusing werewolves with vampires."

"Sirius, you are an imbecile. What about wolfsbane? What does that do?"

"Well, it's _supposed_ to help a werewolf with the symptoms. I always take some before I change, but it doesn't do much on its own other than to make you a little calmer than you would be without it. You still go crazy regardless of how much you take though... Also, they're trying to figure out if it can be used in a potion that can help werewolves, but there's so few werewolves out there and most people think that sort of potion would be a waste of time to invent—"

"Why?"

"Because people hate us, Pete," he sighed. "They're afraid. It's like asking why people can't stop killing spiders whenever they see them."

"What kind of pansy is afraid of spiders?" James scoffed.

"I'll have you know that my Uncle Alphard once had a pet spider twice as big as your head if you aren't counting the legs," Sirius said crabbily, "And that thing was definitely something to be afraid of if you valued your life. Would you like to hear the story, Jamesy?"

"Do tell."

"Well, when I was just six years old, Uncle Alphard came to stay at our place for a while, and he brought his spider along. He said it would be safe because he kept it in this cage, even through the thing kept spitting poison all over the place and burning holes in the floor. Well, I just so happen to have a retarded little brother that forgot to latch that cage after Uncle Alphard and him were feeding it, and one night I was sleeping in my room when I heard a loud scratchy sound on the ceiling…"

"Did it try to eat you or something?"

"More like it jumped on my face and started laying eggs in my mouth," Sirius said, shaking his head at the memory. "I fell out of bed and had to bash it to death with a candlestick to keep it from defiling me. I ended up swallowing a bunch of the eggs though, and that was not a pleasant experience. So I can't say I'm too fond of spiders these days."

"That is the cutest childhood story I've ever heard out of you," James said affectionately, and Peter looked a little green.

"At least those eggs, er, were digested," he noted.

"As opposed to them hatching in my stomach? Yes, I guess that _was_ a positive."

"Also," cackled James, "I wouldn't have chosen to tell us a story about how you dislike spiders while we are in a spider infested house, which is full of spiders which we can spider all over you."

"And then I could just as easily shove you in a cupboard in here and see how you do in the cold, cramped dark," Sirius said idly.

"Don't you dare," James warned.

"Was there anymore you wanted to know, or am I done?" asked Remus, snorting.

"No, hold on, I've got more—"

"Silver bullets," Peter said. "Will those kill you?"

"No, that won't do anything to a werewolf—well, no, I mean, _no_, if you _shoot_ a werewolf they'll die, yes, but the silver doesn't matter—"

"Hold on," James interrupted. "I forgot to mention this as a bit of proof earlier, but how come you're the only one that doesn't use a set of silver scales in Potions class, huh?"

"It's called a _metal allergy_."

"Suuuuuure. Did you have this 'metal allergy' _before_ or _after_ becoming a werewolf?"

"The silver isn't what I'm allergic to, you twit. They add nickel to silver when they use it to make things, and the nickel is what causes people to get a rash—"

"Would you and your brain _please_ shut up?"

"I'm just saying it has nothing to do with that!"

"Here's a question. How _did_ you become a werewolf, moony boy?"

He sighed.

"I don't remember all of it. I was only four, and I was outside past my bedtime because, as my parents suspect, I'd gone back out to pick up a toy I'd left in the yard. It was a full moon, so the grass was really lit up, and I _do_ remember seeing the werewolf that bit me, standing at the edge of the cornfield behind our house. It stared at me with these big yellow eyes, and being four, I didn't see the difference between it and just a big puppy dog. I probably even tried to go pet it. But then it bounded up and gnawed into my leg, and I screamed—"

Remus kicked his leg up onto the last armchair that still resembled a chair and rolled the hem of his robes to his knee. The Marauders 'ooh'-ed at the sight of an enormous scar on the back of his leg, where there were puncture wounds, long scratch marks, and an area where it looked like his flesh had been stripped off entirely.

"Christ, it looks almost like that happened to you not too long ago," James said, edging closer.

"I know it does. The scar from the bite never fades, really."

"Imagine if you got bit on your arms!" Peter exclaimed. "Or your face, even! You couldn't go outside!"

"Lucky I got it on my leg, huh?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, mesmerized. "Gosh, that thing really tried to kill you."

"It wasn't trying to kill me at all, actually. Usually werewolves don't leave their victims alive, but it let me go almost immediately, and it dashed off in a hurry. It was gone before my parents had come running and found me bleeding on the lawn."

"Did you change right after?"

"Yeah. I was already starting to shake when my mum got to me—I'm really glad I don't remember how much the first transformation hurt, because I'm told that you'd really rather die than go through it. Nearly as bad as getting hit with the Cruciatus Curseor something. Anyway, I'm especially glad that my parents figured out what had happened and locked me in the cellar that night. I ruined everything down there, but at least I didn't bite anyone. I've never bit anyone, and it'll be my last day alive if I do."

He shook his head, and the other boys looked at him.

"And then?"

"And then my parents found out the werewolf's name. The part that was shocking was why it had stopped before it killed me. That particular werewolf had been terrorizing people for years, and he enjoyed spreading the illness for sport—especially to children, maybe for the enjoyment of knowing he's causing them trauma, or maybe for some other reason. He also attacks children based on the parents, and whether he likes them. My dad admits that he had insulted him earlier than month at Diagon Alley, and that's why we think he did it."

"And? And what did they do?" Sirius asked, suddenly enraged at the situation. "Is he in Azkaban?"

"They can't do anything about him," Remus said bitterly. "He works for Lord Voldemort."

They all found themselves staring intently at their feet. Then, James suddenly asked—

"Can we come back here?"

"You—what?"

"Can we come back? I mean—this would be an awesome hideout! The Marauder's secret headquarters!"

Remus surveyed him, somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

"Well…" he said, "I… I guess so. You really think this place is a big deal?"

"Of course it is! Are you insane? This place—well, it's _ace_, Remus, there's no other word for it—"

"We could come in here and do all sorts of stuff!" said Sirius, smiling.

"You know, we could get into Hogsmeade whenever we want if we came through this way!"

"We need to come here and celebrate bonfire night! We could roast marshmallows! Or, or—"

Their grand schemes grew in number and became wilder, and Remus was amazed by the sheer number of possibilities he'd never considered. They would surely risk expulsion every step of the way, but that Halloween would mark the true beginning of Marauders and their carefree world of high adventure.

How utterly appropriate that the dream would come to its tragic conclusion exactly eight years later.

--

--

AN: Next time: a side story! Hurray!


	16. Year 3, Side Story: Boredom

**Side Story: Boredom**

There were a few things that were utterly intolerable about the Marauders, such as—

"Oy, Moony."

Moony. The insufferable nickname he'd been called for the greater part of the last two years. He'd convinced them not to use it while in the presence of others, but he still worried that one of these days, someone was going to make the connection.

Remus looked up. As much as he despised that name, he'd grown used to it, and recognized that it referred to him.

"_What_, James?"

"No need to get so snippy," James said, grinning. "I'm just a bit bored."

"It's nine in the morning. How can you be bored?"

"I just _am_, I don't need a reason. Obviously if there was some sort of reason, that'd imply something was happening, and there isn't, so I am therefore _bored_. What've you got there?"

James snatched up one of Remus' books before he could protest, nor figure out what on Earth he'd just said.

"_Numberology and Grammatica_," he said, reading the title. "Sounds obnoxiously difficult. I suppose Arithmacy is your favorite subject, then?"

"Stop that," Remus answered, taking the textbook back by force. "I need it to study with."

"No, _you_ stop it," James countered, and took it back again. "Exams are three weeks off and there are tons better things to be doing that to be reviewing already."

"Things to do such as what? You just got done telling me you were bored because there isn't anything to do."

"Stop trying to avoid the question. I'm asking why anyone want to spend their spare time studying for exams."

"What if I need extra time to review, James?"

"But you _don't_, Moony. Why don't you do more productive things, like figuring out what's up with that witch statue on the third floor? There's something very fishy about it, and I just can't fathom what the password could possibly—"

"_Dissimulo, _I think, was our best bet. Some sort of variation on that."

"You and your dead language knowing. Latin's dead for a reason, you know, Moony."

"It _isn't_ 'dead for a reason'. Nearly all of the spells we know in modern times have their roots in the Latin language, and if you don't know any of it, then you're never going to be able to come up with any news ones, much less be able to figure what potentially could be hidden behind that statue you're so obsessed with. And Latin's not _dead_, it evolved into several current languages, more like. It's turned into Italian and Spanish and Portuguese and Romanian and—"

"Your brain is absolutely intolerable. Don't talk to me anymore, I need to maintain my state of blissful ignorance."

James dropped into the armchair next to Remus' and pressed his index finger to his forehead as if he was meditating. Remus regarded him irritably.

"I have the distinct feeling that you're making fun of me."

"Whatever gives you that idea?"

"Look here, James Potter. I can't help it if you think Arithmacy's only a class for know-it-alls. Just because you and Sirius and Peter decided to take Muggle Studies instead because you didn't want to risk actually challenging yourselves—"

"Muggle Studies _is_ challenging! More challenging than Care of Magical Creatures, anyway. And I still just don't get that bit about electricity, you know. I mean, what the hell do they _really_ need it for?"

"It's what Muggle objects need to run on their own. It's like magic that Muggles can use. They use it to power things and make things operate and have them do whatever they'd like them to, if that can penetrate your thick skull."

James gave him a look of dawning comprehension.

"Those Muggles are really inventive aren't they?" he said, looking amazed. "Wizards don't give them nearly enough credit."

"We certainly don't."

"But I mean… _television_. What's the point?"

"I don't get it either. Lily's been raving about how her family's got a telly with color for a while now though… she'd be able to tell you about it better than I can."

"Evans? Oh, right, her family's a bunch of Muggles."

There was a pause.

"Evans is the one that keeps hanging out with Snivellus."

"Yeah," Remus answered, only half focusing on his notes. Severus Snape was only of the most hated boys at Hogwarts, and he was invariably picked on for his anti-social behaviors, or his nose, or his interesting personal hygiene, but mostly his nose. Lily was one of the few people, outside of the peculiar group of Slytherin boys that Snape chose to associate with, that would look past his looks and his awkwardness and continue to be his friend. Currently, she was trying to get Remus to abandon the Marauders and their Snape-torturing ways, but Remus just couldn't understand what on earth Lily could possibly see in him. Remus hadn't spoken to him at all after his very first day at Hogwarts, besides the occasional 'could you pass me that jar?' during Potions, or 'could you please not elbow me in the ribs?' while doing spellwork in Charms.

"I honestly don't understand that girl. She's batty. Pretty, but definitely batty..."

"Sometimes I wonder," Remus began, but he was interrupted by an almighty racket coming from the boy's dormitories. Several Gryffindors turned their heads toward the source of the noise as Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew came crashing down the staircase in a tangle of limbs.

"Oh no you don't!" bellowed Sirius, just as Peter escaped an arm-lock and made a mad dash across the common room floor.

"Good lord," Remus said, and became very small in his seat as everyone in the common room began to laugh. Peter had dived behind a sofa and then cursed Sirius—boils erupted all over his face.

"You guys are pretty feisty this fine morning," James said loudly, but Sirius charged past him, even his boils looking angry.

"Peter Pettigrew, you piece of crap," he hissed, and threw himself over the sofa and tackled him.

Remus turned back to his notes and tried to put the fight out of his mind even as the battling escalated and the tirade of hexes and curses went on. A few students who hadn't been fast enough were now babbling for no reason, or had half of their hair singed off, or were lying frozen on the floor. Birds were now flying through the rafters, and a shout of "_Aguamenti_!" flooded the entire common room.

"Hey!" James yelp, pulling him feet off the floor, "Quit it!"

He immediately received a blast of blue light to the face that knocked his chair over, and when he came up again, he had his eyes straining with effort to see the antlers that had sprouted from his temples.

"Fine," said James, and uttered the counter-curse, but two red bumps stayed there. "They can go screw themselves."

"We really ought to stop them before they curse each others' arses off though," Remus said, sighing, and then he shouted, "_EXPELLIARMUS_!"

Both Peter and Sirius' wands flew out of their hands, and Remus caught them. They looked around wildly to see where their wands had gone off to, and then they both started shouting once they realized what happened.

"_Don't get involved_!"

"_Don't try to get in the way_!"

"_Langlock_," James said lazily, and then they could only make angry mumbled noises past their tongues, which had stuck themselves to the roofs of their mouths. That was easily the least noticeable of the things that had been done to them—Peter was covered in fur, slime poured out of his nose, and his legs hopped about in a twisted mess, while Sirius had his ears flapping and his fingers hopelessly knotted together, on top of the boils he'd already gotten, most of which had swollen up or dripped yellow puss.

"I think they ought to stay like that for a few hours," James mumbled nastily, "It'd teach them a lesson."

"As good as that sounds, I think we should undo this damage before Professor McGonagall comes up here. They made enough noise I'm sure everyone heard them over in Hogsmeade."

Together, the twenty of so people who hadn't run screaming from the common room at the first sign of trouble worked together to put things back into order. Once the floor were dry, and the birds had all been shooed out the windows, and the casualties of Sirius and Peter's fight were back to normal, James finally allowed the two of them to speak again.

"Alright," he said, pacing in front of them as if they were being interrogated for a high crime, "Who started it?"

They burst into an explosion of blaming each other and complaining.

"And then he just takes it—"

"—he didn't act like he cared—"

"—didn't bother him at all that it's brand new—"

"—hardly thought he'd miss it—"

"—I mean, it's my _favorite_ color—"

"—too big for him anyway!"

"Hold on," Remus asked, trying to make sense of their babbling, "What did you do? Who did it?"

"_He_ did it!" they said simultaneously, pointing. They stared at each other.

"You're still _wearing_ _it_, jackass," growled Sirius, and then he punched Peter's nose in.

"We're not starting that again!" James snarled, and he dived between them as Peter dropped off his chair and groaned. He put his hand over his face, and blood spurted out between his fingers.

"Someone please come out with it and say what happened in a way that makes sense!" said Remus, angrily directing his wand at Sirius.

"_He stole my jumper_!"

There were a few things that were utterly intolerable about the Marauders. Nicknames, pointless arguments, and frequent trips to the infirmary were just a few of them.

--

--

AN: There will not be anything more for third year. I simply don't have enough material for it.  
I've planned everything out now, and from the looks of it there will be 26 chapters, and one or two side stories.  
The last sentence of the fifteenth chapter was sad only because the Marauders have a sad ending to their story. It's pretty unavoidable, you know?

R&R!


	17. Year 4, Valentine: Developments

**I. Developments**

"Er, James…?"

They all looked at what Peter was pointing at—it was a cat, just sitting there, looking at them with glowing eyes.

James shifted aside the Invisibility Cloak to get a proper look at it.

"What's a cat doing here?"

"_James, _get back here—"

"What? I happen to _like_ cats."

He leaned forward and put his hand out.

"A-_ha_! You've found him, Mrs. Norris!"

Filch, nostrils flaring and his lamp held high, had just shouldered open a door and appeared in the hallway. He stared at them with a look of twisted joy, like he'd finally managed to catch an annoying mouse in a trap he had laid.

"Suppose she'd be yours then?" James asked, almost conversationally. The others, still hidden under the cloak, went very silent.

"Don't get cheeky with _me_, Potter—" (It was a sign of just how often James found himself in Filch's office that Filch would actually call a student by name—) "You'd best hold your tongue, because _you_ are in a _lot_ of trouble..."

"Not if you can't prove I was here," James said grimly, and then he darted off.

Filch gave chase, passing the remaining Marauders by without so much as a suspicious look in their direction, but the boys bolted from the hall in the other direction, knowing that if they stood around, chances were that they were going to be detected.

"Oh hell, _oh hell_—"

It was rather hard to run—they'd all gotten so tall that it was tough to keep together enough that the cloak wouldn't flap around and expose their feet and ankles—

"Wait—!"

Mrs. Norris had come prancing into the corridor, like it had known that the others were there all along, and had predicted they were heading back to the common room.

"Other way!"

They wheeled around, both Filch was already behind them, shouting, "What? Who's there?" and the Marauders had to sprint past the cat and turn down another way that would lead them away from Gryffindor Tower. They thought that they were heading in the direction of the Charms classroom, but pretty soon things had become so confusing that they may well have climbed up a few floors while they weren't looking, and then they were passing the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, and they knew they were nowhere close—

With a sudden noise, Peter fell and ripped the cloak clear off of them. He went cartwheeling across the floor and landed in a pile, and then the cloak fluttered down on top of him and he disappeared—

"Are they up here, Mrs. Norris?"

Sirius grabbed the sleeve of Remus' robe and pulled him up another staircase. Sirius seemed to have his face set as they scurried down the passage in front, and once they'd come to a certain tapestry, Remus knew that it was nearly over.

"Place to hide, place to hide, place to hide where we won't get caught—!"

Sirius walked back and forth over the same area three times. A door popped into existence on the wall, and they charged through it.

"Where've they gone, Mrs. Norris? I heard running!"

But Filch wasn't ever going to find them, because they had found the Room of Requirement, and he had no hope of finding them now, even if he knew the room's secret. Sirius pressed his air against the door and listened to Filch's footsteps fading away, and then he slid to the floor and panted.

"Christ," he huffed, "Who would have guessed Filch got a cat?"

"Not me," Remus answered, and he sat down as well. He was vaguely concerned about whether James and Peter were alright, but they weren't about to risk going out to find them for a while. He'd never been caught out of bed, and he wasn't about to tarnish his perfect record.

"Buggering stairs moving around," grumbled Sirius. "Buggering whole school moving around—couldn't figure out where I even was—"

"This place needs a map or something," he suggested, and then he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Hogwarts wasn't the only thing that tended to change—a lot of things had happened since two years ago.

First there were the unexplainable things. James and Sirius had gone even more eccentric, despite not having any lobotomies done or getting mercury poisoning. They also became charming—if you could call it that—in ways that made just about everyone without up a stick up his ass think they were funny. They also used these enchanting powers to get people to always forgive them, even when they flew down the stairs and knocked people over, or invented new spells and knocked people over, or broke everything in the Gryffindor common room because they were wrestling and knocking _themselves_ over.

Also, Peter got rounder, despite the fact that the Marauders' midnight rompings were often an intense workout, especially when Filch—Pringle had quit once James and Sirius had hit their thirtieth box of joint disciplinary records—caught them and they ran screaming down hallways and nearly broke their legs. Remus J. Lupin, boy by day, werewolf by full moon, turned back to normal each month with less and less injuries. He also found the world growing more beautiful to his eyes, but if he ever told that to anyone, he'd never live it down.

Then there were the slow things, like changing interests and clothing styles. James' clothing choices now made a little more sense, Remus found the joys of Honeyduke's, and Peter finally realized that if he didn't get help from his friends that he was going to fail all of his classes and have to live like a Squib. The biggest physical change was in Sirius, who now pranced about in combat boots and pierced ears, and took pride in the fact that he now had a masculine-looking-but-still-obviously-a-girl's haircut that went just past his chin. His parents had completely given up on him and had turned to his little brother, Regulus, who was currently a third year and such an utter brat that not even the Slytherins would talk to him. 'Get out of my way,' was about the only thing people said to him, and Sirius treated his presence within Hogwarts as if he blended in nicely with the walls.

And then there were the things that seemed to have happened over night, or at least very quickly, namely the magical time in their lives that could only be described as 'puberty.' Remus first noticed this when they met again for their fourth year on the Hogwarts Express and James had spots on his chin, and when Sirius jumped on his head, as per usual, he smelled like armpit. There were other embarrassing things, like the unsightly hair, the cracking voices, and the blood sometimes rushing to God forsaken places, but Remus was relieved of at least the spots, since spots do seem to like to stick on skin that is not always human.

The others, who got a full blast of adolescence, seemed to think that it was both cool and unwanted at the same time—James once said it was like coming to Transfiguration and seeing that Professor McGonagall has been replaced by a grizzly bear with a funny hat and a bowtie. It would be an interesting change to the usual school routine, but you would really rather have the bear be somewhere else, like in the woods, and far away from you. Sirius said he could hardly see a difference between Professor McGonagall and James' hypothetical bear.

With puberty came girls. Girls, which had once had cooties, were now mysterious people that kept to themselves and giggled. They were incomprehensible things that liked clothing, and purses, and shoes, and makeup, and talked about their _feelings_. They were beings with nonlinear lines, convex shapes, delicate curvatures, lovely, rounded outlines, and as Sirius and James were quick to point out, breasts.

Girls had become strange, captivating creatures, like an exotic people that the boy-folk couldn't understand, but found to be beautiful anyway.

Lily Evans, in the span of a year, had become one of them.

"Just, you know, Lily Evans," James sighed, further convincing everyone that he was the epitome of a hopeless romantic. "_Lily Evans_."

"What are you going on about this time?" asked Remus. A week later they were sitting in a booth in the Three Broomsticks, meaning none of them had been caught or had their Hogsmeade privileges revoked. It was a good thing that this looked like it was going to be the last round of butterbeers, because it would be Remus' turn next and he didn't have two sickles to rub together.

"Her _name, _Moony_._ Isn't that a gorgeous name?"

"I've never really considered…"

"_Lily_, though. It's _beautiful_."

"Well…"

"Say it a few more times and you'd agree. Lily. Lily, Lily Evans…"

"_We've lost him_!" Sirius shouted abruptly, and he attempted to revive him from the land of lovesick schoolboy by punching him in the stomach. Butterbeer may not have any alcoholic content, but everyone at the table was a little loopy, including Remus, who wasn't even complaining that Sirius had lunged across him to get at James and therefore knocked his mug over and sent butterbeer all over.

"Ow! God, what the hell's gotten into you, you tosser? You've bruised my organs!"

"_I_ want to know what's gotten into _you!_"

"That's what I said to your mother last night," Peter said quietly, his head down on the table.

"Lily Evans has," James answered dreamily.

"You daft loverboy, you only like her for her tits," Sirius said, trying to sound grumpy but failing miserably, especially considering that he was grinning.

"I won't deny that she has a healthy pair of knockers these days," James conceded, "But she's got other things too. I mean… her face! And her hair…"

"So basically, you like her because of her physical aspects," Remus pointed out. "Not that you would ever get to actually _know_ her, seeing as she'd rather spit on you than hold a five-minute conversation with you."

"Alas, I know it to be true," grumbled James. "Finished my butterbeer. I'd say it's time to clear out."

"Mine's not done yet," Peter protested.

"I think you've had enough," Sirius said gravelly, and, after a moment's hesitation, he swung out his arm and smashed his mug onto the floor. It was enough noise that nearly the entire pub turned around to see what had happened.

"The _hell_ was that—?"

"Violent impulses, can't help them," Sirius explained, and James believed destroying other people's property was hilarious, so he doubled over with laughter, leaving Remus with the task of mending the mug and giving the other customers a sheepish, apologetic look, because if there's anyone who can't get a Reparo charm to work or look genuinely sorry for anything, it's Peter Pettigrew.

"Let's just go," Peter said, shifting out of the booth and not looking remorseful for what Sirius did whatsoever. "We're going to need to get our shopping done well before noon."

"Oh, cripes, we've barely got enough time…"

"To the dungbomb stockpiles!" James declared, and charged toward the door.

Remus, despite hating their immaturity sometimes, or most of the time, was glad they were thinking of him.

--

--

AN: Sorry about the break in the updates! I had to do major revisions to this chapter. And hey, it's fourth year now, so this story is going to start deserving its T rating at spots. (Woohoo?)

To answer the question about whether I'm going to talk about James and Lily getting together: Uh, sort of. I don't want to spoil anything, so that's my best answer for now!

Speaking of James and Lily, I think you're either going to love or hate the next few chapters, but if you've liked this story so far, I hope you'll continue to like them. If you don't, of course, feel free to complain in your next review. xD


	18. Year 4, Valentine: The Accident

**II. The Accident**

It was the yearly Valentine's Day trip to Hogsmeade, and the Marauders crunched back out through newly fallen snow, taking pride in the fact that none of them were burdened with some silly girl person on a day like today, because any day was a good day to be without one. Sirius and James sang together as if they were drunk—James took the high notes while Sirius took the low ones—and Peter laughed right beside them. Remus lagged behind and walked with his hands in his pockets.

"Remus! Oy, _Remus_!"

He looked up with surprise to see Lily hurrying along the path with pink cheeks. She was looking pretty as always, with her scarlet and gold scarf wrapped around her neck and her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Remus waited for her.

"Hi!" she said, once she'd caught up, and Remus glanced up ahead to see that the other boys had turned a corner and disappeared. Finding them again wouldn't be too hard—there was a good chance they'd be heading to Zonko's.

"Hey Lily. It's been ages, hasn't it?"

"Yonks," Lily agreed. She seemed perky. "I'm sorry, I've just been caught up in… well, I've been caught up with Severus, really."

"Oh," Remus said. Severus Snape may well have a target painted on his back for the number of pranks that he had played on him, and Remus, though he never participated, was technically a part of a group that specialized in Snape torment.

"I know you don't like to talk about him," Lily apologized.

"It's not that. I just don't really get him. Or why you hang out with him. It's mystifying."

"I don't know either anymore," she sighed. "I've told you the story, right? He lives in Surrey too, and I met him before I knew I was a witch, and he was so nice to me for such a long time. But now he's made all of these nasty friends that he does nasty things with, and yet he keeps on talking to me like we're mates…"

"Well, you can just break it off, can't you?"

"I'm thinking about it. Honestly, I get so frustrated with him, and then I end up feeling sorry for him, and I remember when things were better, and it's just a cycle like that."

"I know what you mean," Remus said dramatically, trying to cheer her up. "Sometimes, I'm hanging out with my idiots, I mean friends, and I remember when I used to have far more intelligent conversations with Lily Evans."

Lily laughed, meaning his mission was a success.

"You were the first friend I made here at Hogwarts, you know. I'm glad I met you on the train in first year or else I'd have been awfully lonely."

"Same with me. You made being a first year a lot better."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Lily laughed again, apparently only to break the tension.

"_Well_," she said. "Guess I should get back. My friends were looking at dress robes at Gladrags, and I had to leave or else I was afraid I'd start gagging."

"Sure. See you then."

But Lily didn't move.

"Actually," she said, "I'm not sure I want to go back. I wouldn't think they'd be done in five minutes, would they?"

"Guess not."

Girls and their clothing…

"You want to go… do something? Walk around maybe?"

"Er, I guess so. It's sort of cold though."

"That's true. We could go look at some of the shops."

"Like where?"

"I don't know."

"James and them were probably going up to the joke shop. We could go up there, maybe. It's a way away."

"That's fine by me," Lily said, and they began to walk at a relatively slow gait, since it was easier to talk that way. They caught up on all sorts of things, and Lily filled him in on her home life and about life at Hogwarts from the another perspective of someone who didn't spend every day getting more than his daily recommended amount of testosterone fueled antics. Sometimes they talked about their academics, but mostly it was about the more important things, like frosty Quidditch matches, and what they'd gotten for Christmas, and the joys of skating on the lake and occasionally getting pulled under by a giant tentacle that shot through the ice and grabbed people for sport.

They passed down a street that inadvertently led them near the Shrieking Shack's property, and Lily looked past gate. It was chained shut.

"You think that place is really haunted?"

"Probably," said Remus, without hesitation.

"I bet you and your friends would be brave enough to go in there and find out," Lily said, wagging a finger at him, and Remus shrugged.

"I would probably take one step in there and start screaming. I bet _you'd_ be brave enough to do it though. Takes nerves of steel to be around some of those people Snape associates with."

"Now you're just trying to flatter me. I'm real a chicken."

"Maybe we could go up there one night and see who lasts the longest before one of us wets themselves."

"That'd be _loads_ of fun," Lily said, rolling her eyes, but she seemed amused by the idea.

They continued to walk, but they kept a little closer as the wind picked up and swept snow up and down the streets and made everything unreasonably cold. They quickened their pace when they saw Zonko's up ahead, as they were eager to go inside.

But then, something very unfortunate happened. Lily looked sideways, and saw the infamous teashop known as Madam Puddifoot's.

"Oh that is _revolting_."

Remus looked as well, but there are so many choices of revolting things to be seen that he couldn't tell what Lily was talking about. The teashop was normally dainty and cute-looking, but today the front of the building was plastered in paper hearts, and through the windows, one could see random explosions of pink confetti and couples either staring at each other or licking each other's faces.

"Is that honestly that Longbottom guy with Alice Prewett?" Remus asked, though he was quite sure of what he's seeing.

"Think so," Lily said, craning her neck. "And they are snogging ever so furiously. Never thought he had it in him."

"I'll never understand that place," Remus sighed. "But maybe that's just because I'm not a girl."

"I don't get it and I _am_ a girl."

"You are certainly a girl, that's true," he agreed, but saying this was bizarrely shocking to him. Sure, he was always _aware_ that she was of the female gender, but Lily… well, she _was_ a girl_—_a girl with girl parts, he would add, unless his eyes deceived him—and he suddenly saw her as such, instead of just a friend with a gender that didn't cause him any concern.

"I mean, I don't understand why they feel the need to go in there," Lily went on. "Some people must like that stuff, but it all seems like a bunch of bollocks to me."

"Personally, I think you could spend Valentine's Day with someone you like without the bells and whistles and still enjoy yourself," Remus told her, hoping this came through as a bit of wisdom and not any insinuation of what they were doing at current.

"I agree with you on that one," Lily sighed, but then a grin lit up her face. "Even the Shrieking Shack would be more romantic than that place."

"Well naturally," Remus began, but he did not finish because he recognized with horror that he was definitely flirting with her, and he'd been flirting for over a half an hour, and oh hell was Lily ever a girl.

"Hm?" Lily inquired.

"Guess I should get back," Remus said, echoing Lily's words from earlier as he tried to inch away. "If they think I've ditched them then I will wake up tomorrow with dungbombs lodged in my ears."

"I wouldn't put it past them."

"I'll talk to you later, Lily."

"Ta, Remus. We should try this talking nonsense again sometime."

They moved about three steps apart before they both stopped dead.

"Remus?"

He didn't say anything.

"It _is_ Valentine's Day."

He turned, and Lily Evans was looking at him with wide eyes—wide, girl eyes, with bright, shining green and long lashes.

"You could kiss me," Lily told him, "If you want to."

Remus' next question more or less fell out of his mouth, and once he heard himself say it, he was convinced he'd gone mental.

"With or without the bells and whistles?"

"Definitely without."

And, because Lily was still unfalteringly a girl, he forgot that he should have thought things through a little more and kissed her.

So went Remus' first kiss. He was momentarily frightened that their lips might smash together and then stop and be confused, but it all happened smoothly, and after ten seconds had passed, Remus forgot the mechanics of kissing and what they were doing, and he put his hands on Lily's waist—

There was something wrong. _All_ of it was wrong, actually_. _It was happening too fast, and he knew he was just reacting. He didn't _really_ want to kiss Lily Evans, he realized that there was certainly a difference between a girl that was a friend, and a girl that he wanted to kiss—

"Whoa, wait," Remus finally said, and Lily looked highly embarrassed.

"Wait," she agreed.

Something shattered against the ground, and they disentangled themselves with a jump.

James, Sirius, and Peter had just rounded the corner with bags of Zonko's merchandise, and there was a smashed bottle of frogspawn on the bit of road at James' feet. His mouth had dropped open.

"_What_?" Lily asked, bright red and apparently addressing the silence.

"You," James choked.

"Me?" said Lily.

"_You_," James said, and this time, he pointed directly at Remus, who had just been snogging the girl he knew his mate had a crush on right outside of Madam Puddifoot's teashop on Valentine's Day. He struggled to say something that might soften the reality of what had happened, because it didn't appear that things could look any worse.

"I didn't mean to," he said weakly.

"Didn't mean to," Lily repeated, even more feebly.

"Just an accident, was it?" asked Sirius. He shook his head, but no one could tell whether he was disappointed in Remus or finding this to be entertaining. Peter, beside him, looked at them with an eyebrow raised.

"James, shit, look, I wasn't trying to do anything funny—"

James' mouth flapped open and shut like a fish.

"You," James said at length, "You're just a _smarmy git_, that's what you are."

Adolescence, above all things, was rough.

--

--

AN: I'm nervous about your reactions… review anyway, please.  
Puberty's gross you guys, get over it! xD;;


	19. Year 4, Valentine: Heartbreak

**III. Heartbreak  
**

"I can't believe you. I—_cannot_—believe—you."

James had not been able to stop saying variations on the same sentence for two hours, and Remus had run out of remorse after about five minutes of it. He was settled into the sofa and was reading a book—or trying to, anyway—in the Gryffindor common room, just waiting for noon to come. He wasn't going to bother to move up to the dormitories, because James would follow him, and he knew because he'd already done it. Twice.

"You would think he's stuck in an alternate universe," Sirius said, opposite Remus, with his back draped over the other arm of the sofa. "A universe where everything you say is repeated at least fourteen million times."

"He couldn't get in that many before he would have to stop to eat," Peter told them wisely. He was the only one doing his schoolwork on the rug, but this is only because he'd been putting it off.

"Or go to the bathroom. That'll probably come sooner."

"But he could still talk while he went to the bathroom. And he is definitely a bathroom talker."

"That's the truth. He doesn't just talk, I swear he can't take a wee without composing iambic pentameter to rival Shakespeare himself. It's embarrassing when you're in the loo with him. You have to look around and pretend you don't know the nutter."

"_I can't believe this_."

"Too bad no one will let me put the Silencio charm to work on him," Remus grumbled nastily. He flicked to the next page.

"I wish I could leave," Sirius sighed, "but I'm afraid I might miss James exploding at you any minute."

"Don't bother staying. If he does go off, I'm sure you could be anywhere in the castle and you wouldn't have to strain to hear it. Go enjoy yourself."

Sirius started to bark a laugh.

"Moony, you should get irritated more often. You turn way more fun than this twit."

"He's _your_ best mate," Remus groaned, "Why can't you talk some sense into him?"

"_I can't. I can't believe you._"

"I don't have any sense for talking into people, unfortunately. Also, I think I'm on your side of things. You snogged Evans and James didn't—you have ever right to go out with her now, and he doesn't. There's a clear winner here, and don't know why he's crying about it. Clearly _I_ am the one who should be crying, as I am the most handsome one here and I didn't get to snog her either."

"I don't want to go out with her for one thing," Remus grumbled. There was only so many different ways that he could say it. "And I also don't think Lily would date _you_, Sirius... you're just as bad as James and Lily doesn't like anyone based on looks alone, I don't think."

He mostly had Snape in mind, but he did not forget his own hideous scars that came and went.

"James would do that. He sees a halfway decent face and he's arse over tit for her. Lily's tits, naturally. Her _enormous_ ones."

Remus sunk down into the cushion and hid his face in his book.

"Ho ho! Getting a little hot and bothered there?"

"Shut _up_. I've been trying to tell all of you for the last two hours that even though she might've kissed me she's only my _friend_ and don't see her that way—"

"And I'm sure you will be soon looking at her in quite a different way, Moony. Undressed, perhaps?"

"_Please_ stop talking."

"_I just can't believe you._"

"I'm bored though," complained Sirius, and then he started kicking Remus' legs. "If talking's not your thing we could play footsie to pass the time, cupcake."

"I would really rather not—"

"_I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU_!"

"Christ!" Peter shouted, but it was only James, who had jumped up from his chair at last.

"He's done with his repetitions!" Sirius exclaimed, and gave him a round of applause.

"Fuck you, Black," James snapped, and Sirius's face fell.

"You don't have to get shirty with me."

"I'll get shirty with whoever I like. And I am about to get extremely shirty with _you_, _Remus Whatever-Your-Middle-Name-Is-Don't-Tell-Me-I-Don't-Care Lupin_!

"It's John," Remus told him.

"You've done it now," Sirius said excitedly, and Peter moved out of the way before his quill got shoved up his nose, or his entire inkwell.

"_I cannot believe you_!" James roared at him.

"Think of something more creative to say," Remus said icily.

"FINE!" bellowed James, but then he took too long, and Sirius mouthed the same words to him, like he was trying to give him a line he'd forgotten.

"_Double_ fuck you, Black! I just don't know what to say because I'm in _shock_ that Moony would _betray_ me like this!"

"I am not going to hear you out if you keep up with the melodrama."

"Fine. Whatever. _Traitor_."

James sat back down and glared at him.

"James, I don't think what Remus did was wrong, exactly," Peter chimed in.

"He's not wrong," he drawled, "in the same way a murderer doesn't think what he did was wrong. He's not wrong in the same way you might drop a bit of rubbish on the ground and never think you're doing any harm, because someone's going to have to pick it up eventually, but what if it washes out to the ocean and chokes an endangered sea turtle, Moony? Then you're just a worthless littering sea turtle murderer!"

"_What_," Remus asked, frustrated, "are you on about? What's that got to do with _anything at all_?"

"_You don't even get it_!" yelled James, and it was a good thing that all the other Gryffindors were still at Hogsmeade or hiding in their dormitories because he was clearly going insane and about to overturn the coffee table in front of him. "_You lack human emotions! You have no sympathy!_"

"I would have sympathy if you made sense!"

"Let me make it clear to you," James said, his voice now dangerously low. "_You have deflowered Lily Evan's virgin lips_."

"Actually I don't think so," Sirius said lazily, and he stretched out as if none of them was of any real consequence to him. "She was dating that Shacklebolt bloke for about six months last year and I'd be willing to bet they weren't just gazing lovingly into each other's eyes all that while."

"But _he's_ kissed her before _I_ have, _hasn't he_?" growled James. "That's not fair! He's _Moony_! He's not supposed to be snogging anybody because he is an unfeeling pillar of callous bookworm! He's another Marauder, for Christ's sake, someone who I _thought_ was my friend, and now he's befouled the innocent and pure Lily Evans! Moony, you are a monster in more ways than one!"

Remus' book slipped into his lap.

"Has if _ever_ occurred to you that you didn't exactly make a reservation on her?" Sirius asked irritably, aware that James' last jab at Remus was overly cruel. "You're just a sore loser, mate."

"But—" James protested, "But _I_ liked her first, _I_ wanted to kiss her, and now she's gone and picked Moony! He did it deliberately! He _knows_ I like her!"

"I _didn't_ do it deliberately," Remus interrupted, his face flushed. "I was talking to her, and then suddenly she _asked me_ to kiss her. I don't know what came over me, but I didn't intend to steal her from you or anything. Of course I know you like her, you make it painfully obvious. And look, I don't want to go out with her whatsoever. I don't even want to kiss her again. I made a _mistake_."

"But you _kissed_ her!" James repeated with a hiss. "_You kissed her_!"

"And _you're_ being such a prat I'm starting to not feel sorry about it!"

"How was the kiss, by the way? I neglected to ask," said the now-asking Sirius.

"Heavenly," Remus said, shortly.

"Arghh," James groaned. He put his head in his hands. "And now I suppose we're going to be stuck in an eternal deadlock, man against man, battling over a girl?"

"I wasn't planning on battling anyone," said Remus. "I just said—"

"The hell you weren't! You like her, I like her, and there is a battle on the horizon, winner takes all!"

Remus rolled his eyes. What none of them seemed to understand was that James was indisputably in love with Lily, but he couldn't say the same thing. In his mind, Lily Evans was only ever labeled with the word 'friend'…

"Whatever. I'm not going to use violence to solve the problem."

"But violence solves everything," Sirius disagreed, and he pointed at both of them. "You two should have a boxing match. Actually, an anything match. Just beat each other up and see who wins her. Right here, right now."

"How would we determine the winner?" Peter piped up.

"Whoever's left standing, of course."

"What limits?" James grumbled. "I would really like to hex him to the moon and back."

"No wands. Let's be manly about this, now. Real men fight with their fists and then with their bloody wrist stumps once those have been hacked off. Oh, also, you can't carve anyone's body parts out. I don't want to have to pick any bits up off the floor. Knock each other out but do it gently."

"Sounds good," James said, and he clenched his hands.

"C'mon now," Remus jutted in, feeling he had the right to stop a fight he didn't want any part of. "I've said repeatedly that I'm not interested. Even if I was, we could beat the pudding out of each other and it still wouldn't determine who Lily would be happy with. I mean, isn't this also _her_ choice?"

"Lily won't have a choice once I've beaten you to a pulp," spat James. "Did you honestly just say 'pudding' while in the context of talking about a manly battle?"

"Er—"

The portrait hole opened, and Lily Evans, the girl of the hour, hoped inside. She walked briskly toward the group, and Remus hoped she wasn't going to single him out.

"Lily Evans you _seductive wench_!" Sirius shouted at her, and she glared. "You've ruined the friendship between the four of us forever!"

"Black, please try to say more intelligent things. Or at least get a hobby."

"Why would I need a hobby when I can sit around and witness the drama that is the love triangle between you three?"

"There's no love triangle," Lily said, annoyed, and James went scarlet.

"Shut up, Sirius," he mumbled. Remus remembered that Lily had no clue that James liked her.

"Remus," Lily said, singling him out, "I came to say that we have Slug Club in another forty-five minutes. I'd be nice if you could come for once, and you should get ready if you want anything good to eat."

"Lily," Remus began, "I can't—"

"Is 'Slug Club' what you kids are calling it these days?" Sirius asked, and wiggled his eyebrows.

"You son of a bitch," James grunted. "Since when have _you_ been invited to _that_ baloney?"

"Since some other kid quit earlier this year and Professor Slughorn wanted to fill his spot. I got a letter about it a while back."

"_What else aren't you telling me_?"

"You told me you think Slug Club's a waste of time!" Remus griped. "I just assumed you wouldn't have cared or you would have bothered me about it for the rest of my life! Also, I believe you used the word 'baloney' when speaking in an angry tone of voice, which caused me to take you a lot less seriously."

"Would you prefer if I used a more colorful vocabulary from now on?"

"Please do, as I haven't seen any proof of you even _having_ one."

"I need a girlfriend so bad," Sirius moaned. "Then Pete and me could fight over her and then it'd be that much more of a _soap opera_!"

"_Excuse me_ if we're boring you with our problems, Sirius!" snapped James.

"You don't have problems, you're all just nuts," said Sirius. "Seriously, Lily, tell us which one you'd like and this can all be over in ten seconds."

Lily gave everyone a confused look, and James was now waving his arms like he was swatting at flies.

"Choose?"

"Yeah," Remus sighed. "James, er… well, he fancies you, to be honest. So he'd like to know which one of us you'd choose, given the choice. He's convinced it should be him."

James turned all of the colors of the rainbow and seemed to have lost his ability to blink or move any of the other muscles in his face.

"You are really _thick_ Potter," Lily snarled.

The words hit James like a block of concrete to the face. He fell backwards into his armchair.

"_I can't believe it_," he gasped.

"Not this again," said Peter.

--

--

AN: When I write these, I never think I have enough material to cover my minimum of about 2,000 words per chapter. And then I get the characters talking and suddenly I have my word count met. Oh well, I'm certainly not complaining!

Next chapter might take a little longer to get out because I'm going to have to revise it for the fourth time... D:

R&R!


	20. Year 4, Valentine: Not Thinking

**IV. (Not) Thinking**

"Remus, _come on_… they've got food down there and I'm _starving_…"

Lily dragged him by the hand and led him toward the dungeons, where the Slug Club meeting was going to be held for lunch. It was a testament to how often Professor Slughorn tested the loyalty of the club members if he'd scheduled it during a Hogsmeade visit.

"Lily, I don't—"

He wished Lily's hands weren't made of steel and unwilling to release him. It was only ten minutes until noon—

"If you don't go, then I won't know anyone there."

"Yes you will. Mary MacDonald's a member, isn't she?"

"Yeah, but she's got a date today…"

The word 'date' struck Remus like a bolt of lightening—an all-mighty thunderbolt from the hands of Zeus himself. He remembered that he needed to sort things out.

"Lily, can we talk about what happened earlier? Let's not pretend like it didn't happen."

"We've got the next hour to talk," she pointed out. She sounded tense.

"But I can't be at the club meeting," he replied, exasperated.

"What?" she said. Her expression suggested that she hadn't heard any of his earlier complains about her dragging him to the dungeons. "Why?"

He ran over what he'd like to say in his mind: _Sorry,_ _full moon tonight you know—things to do, people to see… it's just about noon now and I should be heading off. I'll have to pencil you in for later when I'm not a snarling beast._

"James is really upset," he invented. "I think it'd be best if I try to console him, and if I'm with you, it'll just make things worse."

Lily gave him a stern look, but then nodded reluctantly.

"Guess I can't get in the way of male bonding," she said. "You four are thick as thieves."

"Thieves being one of the many words you could describe them as," Remus sighed. "In any event, let's be honest. I definitely didn't think that kiss earlier was… right."

"I think you thought it was a little more than alright _this_ _morning, _though," she said, giving him an odd look.

"I-I know, I just—" Remus stammered, "Lily, I don't think I like you in _that_ way, alright? You _asked_ me to kiss you!"

"I didn't _ask_! I gave you permission! There's a difference!"

"_What?_"

Lily made an assortment of grumbling noises. Remus had a feeling that he was missing something that would have been obvious in girl language, but it was lost in translation between them.

"Look. Kingsley dumped me on Valentine's last year," Lily told him, and gave a huge sigh. "I think you can understand."

"Uh, no," admitted Remus. "I can't understand you at all."

"Actually I have no clue what that's supposed to mean," Lily also admitted. "And I honestly didn't know what the hell either of us were thinking either, so let's just forget about it and assume it was temporary insanity. I really don't see you as more than a friend."

Remus laughed feebly.

"I'm glad we're still firmly in friend territory. Lily, you have no idea how much trauma you've caused me today."

"Was I really that bad of a kisser?" she asked, grinning a little, but then the smile was wiped off her face again. "Does Potter _honestly_ fancy me?"

"Er, well, he's hasn't been able to say your name without a longing sigh at the end since the beginning of the year…"

"Oh _God_."

"So yes. I'd say James is in love with you. I'd say he's madly in love with—"

"Lily?"

They both jumped. Severus Snape, looking pale, miserable, and like he'd just finished shampooing his hair with liberal amounts of bacon grease, was standing there with a Potions text book in his arms and his mouth open slightly.

"Er, hi," Lily said, as casually as she could. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Well," he answered carefully, "The Slytherin common room is down this way."

"How long have—" she asked, faintly, "How long have you been there?"

"A while," said Snape.

"We should get out of your way," said Remus, uncomfortably.

Snape surveyed him with intense disliking. Remus knew he loathed him and his friends with a passion, and yet he always gave Remus a slightly different expression from the others, like he was wondering something. Whatever the case was, now that Remus was alone, Snape did not hesitate to give him his dirtiest look, and his lip curled, suggesting malice.

"I would appreciate it."

Remus stepped over, and Snape thumped past.

"I wish you hadn't heard any of that," Lily grumbled after him.

"I wish I hadn't either," Snape answered over his shoulder.

"Lily, I need to leave," Remus said quietly. "You go on to Slug Club without me."

"You don't _really_ need to comfort Potter, do you?"

"You saw that he looked like he might cry. I need to go—"

"What's the hurry?"

Snape had not left. He had been observing them, and it was awfully creepy, just like everything else about him.

"Sev, can we _please_ have a private conversation here?"

"I'm just wondering," he said, with an air of nonchalance. "You aren't up to something, are you? You don't have somewhere to_ be_ this evening, do you?"

"N—" Remus began, and then he choked.

_Oh, bugger._

"'Course he doesn't, he's just going back upstairs," Lily protested.

"Is he now? How can you be sure? How do you know he isn't _lying_?"

"_Snivellus_," Remus snapped, and it was a severe snapping, because he'd never used that nickname. "I am _just_ going back to my common room. Are you finished? Leave us alone."

A muscle in Snape's jaw twitched. His hands were clenched tightly around his book, like he might break it in half if he squeezed any harder.

"I've seen," he said raggedly, "I saw you last time… that tree…"

Remus tried his damnedest not to react, but he knew he failing at it.

"What?" Lily asked wildly. "Remus? What's he on about? A tree?"

"I don't know," he said stiffly, "He's raving. Lily, I'm going."

He abruptly turned the other way and bolted toward the Hospital Wing. Snape was on to him, but he was also five minutes late, and Remus J. Lupin was the sort of person who would show up fifteen minutes early to a dentist appointment at the end of the world.

--

"We are putting a halt on our top secret project," James announced.

Sirius rolled his eyes and said, "We're not quitting for something stupid like this."

"It's been two years!" whined Peter. "Two years of progress! I was just starting to get it!"

"That traitor doesn't deserve another second of our hard work," James muttered savagely.

"James, seriously," Sirius grumbled, running his hands through his hair, "I'm getting bored with this. It's not funny anymore. Grow up, mate, it's not like it's the end of the world."

"How do you even know, Sirius?" James asked him. "_How—do__—__you—even—know_?"

"Because there are lots of other girls that aren't Evans. Find another one with red hair and big tits and you'll be good. It's not hard."

"But Evans," complained James, "is the only big-titted redhead that I fancy."

"Ugh, you are just too daft. I don't know why I associate with you."

"Because we are a dashing duo."

"Besides that."

"Moony does realize that tonight's the night of the full moon, doesn't he?" Peter asked them.

"No," Sirius said sarcastically, "I'm sure he's completely forgotten he's a werewolf today."

"Shh—" Peter began with alarm, but then realized they were the only ones there, and he relaxed again. "I didn't mean whether or not he knew he's… well, you know… I meant, do you think he managed to get to the infirmary on time? I'm wondering if Lily's holding him hostage in the dungeons."

"More like she's _snogging_ him in the dungeons."

James made a strangled noise and then sunk down into the chair as a boneless heap.

"Heh," said Sirius.

"Don't torture him," Peter implored.

"_He's_ torturing _me_. I can't take this. Look, you want me to go down and see if Moony made it to the Hospital Wing? If he can't shake Lily off I can make an excuse for him and I will do it gladly. Anything to get out of here."

"Sure. I'll finish this up and watch him for you to make sure he doesn't hang himself."

"Good man, Pete."

Sirius exited the common room and considered the sheer amount of work they'd lose if James were actually to call it quits on the Animagus project. He recalled all of the hours spent pouring over books, asking Professor McGonagall about it until she started giving them shifty looks, practicing the spellwork involved, going through all the steps with diligence, keeping it a secret from Remus all this time…

"Focus the mind," he said, repeating words he'd said a thousand times and hoping to get a little practice in, "Focus the mind and release your needless thoughts. Embrace the animal form that dwells in the deepest corners or your mind and soul. Deep within the subconscious, it is there, waiting for—"

And then he rammed smack into someone's chest.

Neither of them actually hit the floor, but Sirius would have gone down if he hadn't grabbed the wall, and Severus Snape would have as well, if he hadn't grabbed the front of Sirius' robes.

"_Please_ get off," he snarled. "These robes are _new_, Snivellus."

Snape's hands snapped to his sides, obediently, but then he seemed to realize that he didn't want to take orders, and slackened them again.

"Weren't watching where you were going?" he asked brutally. "Head stuck in the clouds? Thinking about how pretty you are, were you?"

"No, I was actually thinking of the best way to permanently cripple you."

"It'll have to wait," said Snape, treating the threat with his usual frostiness. "I'm here to inquire about your friend."

"Like I'm going to tell _you_ anything."

"That's fine. I'll find someone else to ask about Lupin."

Snape started off, but then Sirius spun around with his eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare.

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" he asked.

"I'm not trying to pull anything at all. I just need a question answered."

"What's the question, pray tell?"

"Why should I ask if you've sworn you won't answer me?"

"Because I'll break your bloody nose off, that's why," growled Sirius.

Snape gave him a look that said that he just played right into his hands, but Sirius was too angry to care.

"Answer this question," he said mildly. "Is Remus Lupin in the Gryffindor common room?"

Sirius lifted his fist, and made it right on level with Snape's extraordinarily large nose.

"The _real_ question."

"That _was_ the real question."

"Not likely. Whether or not Remus is in the common room doesn't mean anything to you."

"It does," Snape said, contemptuously. "It means a great deal to me."

"Fine," Sirius grunted. "I'll answer your dumb question and you can fall asleep tonight in your oily bed while being comforted by the knowledge of his location. No, he's not in the common room. Now go ooze on things somewhere else, I'm getting tired of looking at how ugly you are."

It was very slow to start, but a smile did indeed spread across Snape's sallow face, and it was a most peculiar sight to see.

"Then where is he, Sirius Black?"

"You've gotten the answer you wanted, Snivels. Bugger off."

"I just want to know," said Snape, casually, "What Lupin is going to be doing this evening."

It took a moment, but then, it sunk in.

"You slimy bastard," Sirius said weakly.

"Either you tell me or I spread the truth to this entire school, " Snape warned, his sharp tone almost business-like.

"_How much do you know_?" Sirius growled.

"Why don't you tell me your version, and we can compare."

"_The hell I will_!" roared Sirius, and he withdrew his wand from his back pocket. He intended to curse Snape's face off before he could even realize what was happening, but Snape's own wand was already jabbing into his throat. They froze.

"What's the matter?" Snape asked him sharply. "Scared to use that wand without your friends to back you up? Afraid of a fair fight?"

Sirius usually didn't think before he did things, but in this situation, thinking was unavoidable. He was not willing to let the power of his next spell determine who would walk away unscathed, and he was definitely not going to depend on his skill with a wand to decide whether or not Remus' secret would be leaked to the entire student body. He thought quickly, more quickly than he ever had to in his life, and he was convinced that he had the perfect plan—a plan that would teach Snape about sticking his ugly nose in other people's business. It would be a lesson that about just how terrifying a werewolf really was, and to never cross Sirius Black ever again.

"I'll tell you where he's going," he said viciously, pushing the wand away, "but you're the one that has to make it there."

--

--

AN: And you doubted where I was going with this!  
Man, editing this chapter took longer than writing it…  
Review, as always. I never get tired of them, honestly!


	21. Year 4, Valentine: Rescue

**V. Rescue**

The werewolf was pacing.

Below his transformed exterior, there was a nearly-fifteen-year-old boy that couldn't see why things had to be this hard. James was mad at him, Snape suspected him, Lily was utterly confounding…

He was bewildered by the day's events, and guilty, and twisted up. He was in chaos.

The troubled thoughts from his human self were overly loud and overwhelming to his current mind. The werewolf sniffed at the floor and whimpered, unable to grasp even a tiny amount of the human emotions that bubbled up from the boy inside him.

_James, Lily._

The werewolf knew those names, deep down, somewhere. They were the people he knew—his friends, his pack. People that he loved and cared for deeply.

_Lily, James._

But they were also his prey. They were the thrill of the hunt, the taste of warm, the pulsing blood, the carnage and slaughter…

_James._

_Lily._

The beast hadn't had a night quite as bad as this for years. His insides were in pain, and his thoughts were muddled. He threw himself onto the floor, still whining in his confusion.

_Thump, thump, thump._

What was that? It was far away, but the pounding was growing louder. He began a low growl, deep in his throat.

_Thump, thump, thump—_

"_Alohomora_!"

The door had unlocked downstairs, and someone had crept in.

"Who's here? Come out!"

He could hear his pounding heart, and underneath the smell of a musty robe and heavy perspiration, the fragrance of blood hung thickly in the air. It was so thick he could taste it on his tongue.

"_Show yourself!_"

Too late. The werewolf had already come thundering down the stairs, and before him, no further away than the length of the room, stood Severus Snape, staring inward with his wand lit.

Their gaze met, and for a moment, Snape did nothing. Then, he trembled, and one of his legs gave out. He grabbed the door frame.

"Werewolf," he croaked. His eyes, usually so dark and hollow, glinted with terror. "He's a _werewolf_."

The beast snarled, thick ropes of saliva pouring from his mouth. He reared up, snapping his jaws, and bounded across the floor—

_Thump, thump, thump—_

"YOU BLOODY—"

James Potter dove through the doorway and he and Snape went tumbling across the ground. They finally skidded to a halt, four or five meters away, which was not very far, but it would buy them time. James—with his knee ripped open and pouring blood—pulled himself back up onto an elbow as the werewolf wheeled around and dashed at them again.

Just in time, he pointed his wand into the wolf's face, and flames shot out of it. The beast gave a shrill yelp, and stopped just short of the fire's range. It was a good thing James didn't try to use physical force to protect himself, or else there would be no doubt about who would have won.

"_MOONY!_" he bellowed, "_STOP IT! _DON'T HURT ME, IT'S ME, JAMES—_STOP_—"

Remus was well aware of it, but his pleading screams remained trapped inside his own head, and nothing got through to the werewolf. He growled, throatily, and shot forward.

"_MOVE_, SNIVELLUS!"

Again, James Potter acted quickly. He forced Snape to get up and they scrambled, sloppily but fast, back toward the exit. The wolf changed his direction, and then felt something hit him—a broken bit of wood, scooped up off the floor—and he paused just long enough that the boys managed to charge through the doorway and collapse into the passageway beyond. The door slammed shut behind them.

The wolf bashed himself repeatedly against the door as a stream of tricky spellwork was uttered by one of them, and the other sounded as if he was being violently sick. The entire shack trembled, but the walls and spells held the werewolf in.

The boys could he heard sprinting away. They were safe at last.

--

Remus stirred, and he was aching all over. He suspected that half the bones in his body were crushed, or that he'd broken his spine in half, but at least he was too heavily medicated to feel most of it. He was also nauseated, and his head felt muddy.

"Ugh," was the first thing he said.

The room came into focus—he was in the Hospital Wing, lying in his usual cot with the curtains pulled. He groaned at the sight of his right arm, covered in bandages.

"Oy! His eyes are open!"

For the first time, he noticed that Peter was sitting beside him and looking at him with surprise.

"Please don't shout," he grumbled, twisting under the sheets. His voice was rough and dry. "Christ, it's like there's an axe lodged in my head—"

"Sorry, Moony," said Peter, though he wasn't much quieter. Again, not apologetic at all.

Then, the curtains swished open. Sirius Black was in front, his eyes big and watery, like a puppy that had just gone to the bathroom on the carpet. James came up behind him, smiling weakly. He walked with a slight limp.

"Alright there, Moony?" he asked. "How're you feeling?"

Remus gave him a bleary-eyed look and said, "Like I'm going to throw up."

"Oh God I am _so sorry_," Sirius blurted out, and the others rolled their eyes at him as he found his way to an open seat. Peter had the wisdom to pass Remus his bedpan. "Moony, _God_, I've never been sorrier in my life..."

"He's been saying the same thing since last night," James said brightly, sitting at the edge of the bed because they'd run out of chairs. "Like a broken record."

"Or like someone stuck in an alternate universe where you repeat everything fourteen million times," Peter suggested offhandedly, and got a scathing look from James.

Remus tried to sit up, but his head pounded, and he settled back down onto his pillow with an unhappy moan.

"Can someone please tell me why I feel like roadkill?" he asked groggily. "I know that I transformed last night, but—"

Then, as if he'd just noticed his friends were there, he gave them all a shocked expression.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, panicky. "You guys aren't supposed to know I'm—"

The boys looked at each other.

"It's a little late, Moony," James sighed.

"I am _so_ sorry," Sirius added, who had put his arms on the bed and buried his face in them.

"Oh _God_," Remus breathed. "What's happened? Madam Pomfrey knows that—that you lot know that I'm—"

"She thinks we've just found out," said James. "See, once we'd gotten back up to the castle, Dumbledore was standing there in the Entrance Hall like he was waiting for us—"

"And then he docked James and Snape about fifty points each and gave them both detention for being out of bed at night," Peter told him, now tallying on his fingers, "And Sirius lost us about a hundred and he's been given a month's worth of detentions. But then he gave James a hundred points back for going down there and saving Snape's arse. Oh, and he also took back his detention for that."

"Don't forget that he took back Snivellus' detention too, once he promised not to tell," James grunted.

"We've lost fifty points?" asked Remus, and then, terrified: "Wait. Did Snape see? Does he _know_?"

"He almost died for it," James said regretfully, "But yeah, he knows."

"You almost died too, James."

"Oh please. I wasn't going to die because I'm not a little twit."

"Someone," Remus begged, "Someone please tell me what happened!"

"It's Sirius' fault," Peter said, as if that was all the explanation that was necessary.

"Moony, _please_ forgive me," Sirius pleaded, bringing his head up again.

"I don't care whose fault it was, I just want to know, I can't remember anything that happened last night—God, tell me I haven't hurt anybody—"

"Alright, alright," said James, who had to smack Sirius upside the head because he was apologizing so fiercely he was talking right over him. "First of all, no one's hurt—well, except for you, Moony, but you were the one that did that to yourself. What happened was that yesterday afternoon, Snivellus came up to the Gryffindor Tower, and he was being real sneaky, like he suspected where you'd gone. Well, he ran into Sirius here, and then—well, tell Moony what you told Snape to go do, Sirius."

"I told him that if he'd go prod the knot on the Willow's trunk, he'd be able to see where you'd gone," said Sirius, his voice dead and hollow. "But I only said it because he deserved it—he deserved to get the shit scared out of him, honestly he did, he was being real cheeky with me and I never thought he'd really manage to do it—I thought the Willow would teach him a lesson and never in my life would I have imagined him getting any further—"

"Well, he did get in further," Peter explained, "But luckily Sirius came back to the common room to brag about what he'd done—"

"And Pete and I decided to keep watch and make sure Snivellus didn't try and sneak out, and sure enough, as soon as it got dark, we saw him leave—"

"And then I chickened out," Peter admitted.

"Yeah. And then Pete chickened out. But to be honest, I wasn't too keen on chasing after Snivellus either, if I was gonna have to save him from a great bloody werewolf—I mean, he could already be half eaten by the time I got down there, and I'd be desert—"

"Of course, if Snivellus was already dead by the time James arrived, you'd have done the world a service, Moony," Sirius said darkly.

"Yeah, but his mum wouldn't have thought so, and mostly I was thinking that if you really did hurt someone, they wouldn't let you stay here at Hogwarts anymore, so, yeah, I decided that I'd go down there for you, if nothing else—"

"And no one got hurt?" Remus asked, disbelieving. "I didn't hurt _anybody_?"

"Well, I cocked up my knee pretty good, but damn I was pretty smooth down there, if I do say so myself," James said proudly, suddenly smiling. "And Snivellus didn't even get that much, the lucky wanker."

"Please don't make me think about Snivellus having himself a wank," Sirius groaned.

"You're the one imagining it, mate. Good luck with those mental scars, though."

"Everyone was alright in the end though," concluded Peter. "Except for Sirius, who tried to drown himself in a toilet once he found out that James practically had to wrestle Snape out from between your jaws, Moony."

"Sirius said he'd gladly give up a limb if you'd forgive him," James said.

"Even then I feel like it's too much to ask," Sirius told him heavily.

Everyone turned their attention to Remus, who slowly mulled the information over in his head. His entire body was still throbbing with pain, but he thought his head was a little clearer.

"Alright," Remus began, "So, have I been expelled?"

"Christ no," James said, looking appalled.

"Is Snape the only one who knows now? No one else?"

"Yeah. And he's sworn to secrecy, as unhappy as he is about that," said Peter.

"And James, you're not off the Quidditch team, are you?"

"Nah. Still the best damn player in the school, thank you."

"What about Professor Dumbledore? How angry is he?"

"Well, he'd like to snap Sirius' head off, and Snivellus got lectured, but personally, I think he's right proud of what _I_ did. And he knows none of it was your fault, Moony, he even said to tell you to get well soon when we were up in his office."

"Are you mad?" Sirius said reproachfully. "I mean, you should be, but please don't hurt me."

Remus reached out with his sore left arm and gave Sirius an awkward pat on the head. Sirius looked surprised.

"Sirius, shut up. No, I'm not mad. Nothing bad happened, so I'm not mad. Just please, shut up. You asking for me to forgive you is really pathetic."

Sirius let out a happy sound, and James laughed.

"See? I told you he wouldn't be. Moony wouldn't be mad even if you dumped dead flobberworms in his bed."

"You were the one that did that last year?" Remus asked.

"Whoops," said James.

"Look," he said, finding that he didn't have the strength to care, "can you all just… leave? I don't know if I need to go back to sleep or just vomit all over, but I don't want you blokes to be around for either one."

"Rodger, Moony," said Peter, and he hopped up. Sirius slumped out, muttering something about how he wished Snape _had_ died, and was then followed by Peter. James tried to slip away last.

"Not you," Remus said, and James froze. "You stay. I need to say something to you."

James eyed him wearily and sat back down.

"First of all," said Remus, "I guess I should say thank you."

"Moony, don't start with that, you know you don't have to—"

"And second, I'm convinced that you should go out with Lily."

James had to pause for a second to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

"W-what? Wait, why?"

"Because," Remus said, "because of what you did."

They stared at each other.

"Did you hit your head?" James asked uncertainly.

"No, my head is fine. I've just figured things out, actually."

"Alright, well, explain what you're on about or I'm just going to assume that's the medicine talking. And speaking of Lily—"

James pointed at the bedside table. Next to Remus' wand, which he'd left there the previous evening, there was a piece of parchment, folded and with Remus' name on it.

"Go on and read it," James said, turning a bit red.

He opened it, and briefly scanned Lily's gentle handwriting. She had apparently written him an apology, and 'get well soon.'

"What does she think's happened?"

"Er, she's been told we tripped you down some stairs."

"That's fairly believeable then."

There was a pause in which it looked like James would have liked to have taken the note from Remus and give it a kiss.

"I don't need to read it," Remus said finally, and, after staring at the paper for a moment, he picked up his wand, pointed it at the paper, and whispered, "_Incendio_."

The paper instantly caught fire, and he watched as Lily's words turned black and then into ash. He then dropped the end he was holding into his bedpan before he burnt his fingers.

"That was wholly unnecessary," James protested. "I would have cherished a letter like that for the rest of my life."

"Exactly," Remus snorted. "You would, and I wouldn't. You would go down and rescue Snape, and I wouldn't. You would put Lily before anything else in the world, and I wouldn't. Look, I know that I don't love Lily. And you may think you only like her because she's a bit dishy, but I mean, you'd have to be awfully thick to be so charmed by just her appearance."

"But—" James tried to say.

"You know what? Honestly James, I can't think of anyone better for her. She hates you but I bet if you just keep trying, and treat Snape a little nicer maybe, she'll realize that you're perfect for her."

James regarded him with an intense look, like he couldn't quite figure him out.

"You're saying that I'm right for her?" he asked, disbelieving.

"I'd say it's a definite maybe. You know, the second I feel better, I'm going to go find Lily and say that she ought to go out with you if she'd like a boyfriend, and I don't even care if she punches me into next week."

"She wouldn't punch you," James said breathlessly. "She hasn't punched anybody since third year."

"See?" Remus said. He couldn't help but smile. "I hadn't even noticed."

"Well, I noticed mostly because I was the last person she belted."

"You should consider that an honor. Her very last punch… you probably got the last bruising she will ever give someone."

James was now smiling too.

"God I want to hug you. But then that'd be extremely awkward."

"And then I'd vomit on you for certain."

"I know," he said, and then he leapt up and punched at the air. "Yeah! I've got a _chance_! Moony, you are a traitorous monster but I forgive you."

"And I forgive you for acting like a prat. Now go away, I'm tired."

"Righto. Have a nice kip."

James went away humming joyfully, and Remus put the bedpan aside, closed his eyes, and slept off the rest off his soreness.

Even if it took nothing short of a miracle, he thoroughly intended to help those two beat the odds and get their chance at happiness.

--

--

AN: Okay, I know _technically_ Lupin says in Prisoner of Azkaban that Snape didn't make it as far as the end of the tunnel, but that wouldn't have been any fun at all.  
Also, you guys are great. Your reviews are so sweet. =D  
Just as a heads-up, fifth year is going to be a little dark.

R&R!


	22. Year 5, Moonlight: A Bit of Sadness

**I. A Bit of Sadness**

"No really. Where's Pete?"

"No idea," Sirius responded immediately, and then James stomped on his foot. "I mean," he tried again, "er, he's in the Hospital Wing."

"What happened to him?" he asked. His eyes narrowed.

"He fell out a window."

"We shoved him out a window."

"Tragic, really."

"It's been nothing but regrets since. Poor thing nearly snapped all his limbs off. We properly apologized afterward of course, but we definitely felt terribly sorry for what we did."

Remus put his hands down on the table at which James and Sirius were engaged in their game of wizard's chess. Only they clearly weren't actually playing, seeing as the pieces were slumped down and napping on their squares.

"What happened to him?"

"What's with all the suspicion?"

"I'm suspicious because you're acting suspiciously. Now tell me what you did with him."

They looked at one another. One of James' pockets twitched.

"What's in there?"

"What's where?"

"Your pocket moved, Potter. What's in there?"

"I don't have any pockets," he told him blankly.

"None that matter, anyway," Sirius added hastily, and he kicked him.

"You do realize I'm a prefect now?" Remus J. Lupin reminded them unnecessarily. No one was exactly surprised that he had earned himself the title of prefect, but Sirius and James and Peter still gave him hell for it. That was exactly why he was so proud of himself, and why he polished his badge to shining perfection each morning. He needed to both act and look the part of an authority figure.

"We noticed," James said nastily. "Going to turn us in?"

Remus was going to give these friends of his a stern talking to one of these days, but first he was going to need to find himself a backbone.

"What would I turn you in for?" he admitted. "I'm just saying that you ought to listen to me when I—"

"Sure," said Sirius, and he shared a smirk with James.

Despite his new badge, they were behaving worse than they ever had before. James had become a Quidditch celebrity and Sirius was so handsome and flirtatious that girls were falling over them left and right, and the fame had gone to their heads. Their pranks had changed from harmless fun to near bullying, and Snape was no longer their only victim. They tended to go after anyone who made them angry, and Peter always thought they were clever whatever they did, so whenever Remus would feebly ask them to stop, he would only feel walled out and ignored.

But the change, he thought, was mostly due to recent events. Professor Dumbledore no longer pretended as if things were going swimmingly, and the entire student body had become testy and nervous because of the rising power of Lord Voldemort. A few students had already been pulled out of school, and a few more had lost family members, and the air was relatively thick with terror. The views of Slytherin House were both increasingly hated and sometimes adamantly agreed with.

"Fine," said Remus, coolly. "Go ahead and insult me. We need a little more hate in the air."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but James' attitude softened. He sighed.

"Sorry," he apologized, and then he got up. "Man, this is exactly what he wants isn't it? All of us getting brassed off with each other."

He didn't have to explain whom he was referring to.

"I'm tired. I ought to get to bed if I want to do well at the Quidditch match."

It would be the first match of the year, and the first bit of relief from cruel reality that Hogwarts had had in quite a while, so everyone was already buzzing about it excitedly and wearing their colors. It would be Gryffindor versus Slytherin, the first match of the year, and it almost felt like there was going to be a battle between good and evil come tomorrow.

James' chair scrapped back, and then he gave Sirius a painfully obvious glare. He got up as well, claiming that he was also tired.

Remus folded his arms.

"Will Peter be making it to the match?"

James glanced down at his pocket.

"Hopefully," he said, and they vanished up the stairs.

--

There were usually at least a handful of people who chose to stay behind when a Quidditch match took place, as not everyone could be expected to get excited about it, but today he felt that even the most sour of individuals out of the castle at to the Quidditch pitch, because the stands were more packed than usual. Also, an overwhelming majority of the students had participated in making, or were at least holding, giant banners that said wholesome things such as '_Slytherin Sucks_' on them, and everyone was already yelling. There was only one instance of '_Gryffindors Go Home_,' but that banner was being held up by a mob of Slytherins who had positioned themselves far away from everyone else.

The announcer rattled off the names of the Gryffindor players as they marched out of the locker rooms, and their supporters jumped around and shouted.

"Binoculars?" offered Peter, above the roar of the crowd. He showed up mysteriously this morning and hadn't been willing to anyone where he'd been.

"Thanks," said Remus, and he found James with them, whose mouth was moving, and was probably shouting obscenities. The Slytherin team began to saunter onto the pitch as well.

"KNOCK BLACK OFF HIS BROOM!" bellowed Sirius, and the Gryffindors around him screamed their approval. Regulus Black had been picked to play Seeker for the Slytherins, and he was, surprisingly, a major asset to the Slytherin team. He had gotten on without the bribing that was rumored to have much to do with the rest of the Slytherin lineup.

"You don't really mean that," Remus said. Looking through the binoculars, he could see Regulus, who was looking currently looking a tad miserable.

"You really don't think so?" Sirius grumbled, and when Regulus happened to look up into the stands and make eye contact with his brother, Sirius gave him a rude gesture with both hands.

Once the whistle had been blown and the game had started, the noise not only increased in volume, but it was also a lot more confusing and hoarse. Lily finally resorted to putting her fingers in her ears after the seventh time that Gryffindor had scored and the crowds made a tremendous amount of racket in response. The game remained, however, largely tied up for a good thirty minutes, because the Slytherin team was admittedly doing well, which seemed to enraged Gryffindor's supports even more. They heckled and jeered at anyone they could find in green and silver, and Sirius and Peter knocked down a first year who had politely asked for them to stop screaming in his ears.

Then, people started pointing and shrieking. The two Seekers shot through the air after something so small and slight that it was wonder it could be seen at all.

"KNOCK HIM OFF HIS BROOM!" Sirius roared again. "_KILL HIM IF YOU HAVE TO!_"

_CRACK._

A Slytherin Beater had sent a Bludger streaking toward them in an attempt to save the match, and while Regulus avoided it by sheer luck, the Gryffindor Seeker's outstretched arm was smacked into, and it made an sickening noise as it broke.

"GRAH!" yelled Peter, voicing the noise that the Seeker must have made, but it was lost among the screams that were issuing from the stands.

"No!" gasped Lily Evans, from somewhere behind them. The Gryffindor Seeker's arm was dangling from its socket in a way that it definitely wasn't supposed to.

"LOOK AT _THAT!_"

Against a Seeker with a broken arm, capturing the Snitch should have been easy, but it appeared that Regulus had completely lost his head. He spun around on his broom and looked for it frantically, and the Gryffindor Seeker, her face set, but certainly turning green at the same time, caught sight of the Snitch again and swept after it with a burst of speed. She plucked it out of the air with her left hand.

--

Fifteen minutes later, when Sirius, Remus and Peter had finally pushed and shoved their way out of the stands, Remus' ears were still ringing. He was pleased that Gryffindor had won, of course, but he wished that the whole ordeal hadn't been quite so thunderously loud.

"Where's Prongs?"

The Gryffindor team had a lot of visitors, come to congratulate them, and their Seeker, her arm now done up in a sling thanks to Madam Pomfrey, was getting extra attention.

"There he is—"

It was a wonder they found him at all, with the number of people who were milling about. James, who had changed back into his uniform, had just come back around from the broomshed. When he spotted them, he sprinted over.

"Good job mate," said Sirius, thumping him on the shoulder. "You scored us fifty points!"

"I suppose I looked pretty cool out there, did I?" he asked, and he ruffled his hair and glanced over hopefully, where Lily had just passed with a group of girl folk.

"You're hopeless," Peter said affectionately.

"Uh oh," snickered James. He was looking past them. "Don't look now everybody. It's Sir Black the Younger."

Of course, they all did look then, and Regulus was standing behind them, still in his green Quidditch robes. He was, essentially, a smaller, skinnier version of Sirius, only plainer, and with his hair much shorter.

"Sirius," he began.

"Hey Reggie," Sirius said callously. In the four years that Regulus had been a Hogwarts student, Sirius had never even spoken to him. "Been having a good cry about the match?"

"_No_," he snapped, but his eyes were very red, and it was fairly obvious that he was upset. "I came to ask whether you were pleased with yourself. Suppose you're pretty happy, with this on top of everything?"

"Why _wouldn't_ I be pleased with myself?" Sirius asked.

James laughed behind him.

"Yeah," he answered, fists shaking. "Yeah, I figured you'd be pleased. You look right happy about it. I suppose you've got enough gold in your pockets now you wouldn't care at all!"

Remus raised his eyebrows. Was this not about the match?

"Reg," Sirius said, sounding concerned for the first time, "what are you on about?"

"_You know what I'm on about!_"

Sirius threw up his hands.

"Well hell, as _accomplished_ as I am at Occlumency, I should just be able to _read your mind_, should I?"

"You—" Remus said, as though suspicious it was a trick, "you got a letter, didn't you? Don't lie!"

"_What_ letter?"

James, who had at one point been grinning as he anticipated Sirius giving Regulus the bullying of a lifetime, was now frowning. Peter, similarly, looked extremely somber, and Sirius actually put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Reg, what's happened? Mum and Dad don't send me post anymore—"

"Uncle Alphard's dead," Regulus croaked.

Silence.

"Was," asked Sirius, sounding feeble, "was it one of his spiders?"

"N-no!" he said quickly, eyes now streaming, "He was—killed b-by an Auror!"

Remus could almost hear what Sirius would say next: _Well, if he's turned into a Death Eater, good riddance._

But then—

"He's left you m-most of his gold, Sirius—it's because he liked _you_, not me—he—you've b-betrayed the whole family, and still h-he—"

Regulus sobbed outright, and they all waited for Sirius to punch him for being such a wimp, but an odd expression came over his face instead. He pulled his brother forward and hugged him.

"I was happier with a little more hate in the air," James said, laughing awkwardly.

Sirius comforted Regulus by telling him 'shut up' until he was finished.

--

--

AN: Updating early to celebrate the fact that I've got all the chapters written now! Yeehaw!  
This chapter and the next side story are pretty sad, but to be honest, I like sad stories. I think they can be really beautiful. Hope you enjoy!


	23. Year 5, Moonlight: Animagi

**II. Animagi**

The curtains of Remus' four-poster bed crashed open.

"Wha—?" he muttered thickly, but it took no time at all before he figured out the perpetrators.

"Wakey wakey, Moonykins!" crowed Sirius Black. "Good morning!"

"_Good morn-ing!_" continued James, singing, and then both he and Peter burst into a rousing chorus of that one part of that one song by that one Muggle band that Remus couldn't remember the name of for the life of him.

"Too _earlyyy_," he groaned, turning over. "Go _awaaayyy_…"

"It's not too early, it's definitely the perfect time to wake up! _Now out of bed you get!_"

Someone ripped the blankets clear off of him, and he gave them a drowsy glare.

"You lot are in good moods," he grumbled finally, and then, looking around: "The hell d'you want? Where'd the others go?"

"We might have given them a heap of gold to clear out," said Peter, his hands in the air.

"You never know," said James, copying him.

"I want to murder all of you," Remus told them in his best deadpan, and then he rolled to the edge of his bed. "Make this quick, whatever it is."

"I'm hurt that you would think we'd get you out of bed for something unimportant," Sirius said, pouting.

"You're right," he said dryly. "How could I ever doubt you?"

"Tell you what, Moony," James said, unable to stop grinning. "We'll get a head start on you while you get dressed. We'll meet up with you again at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, by the Quidditch pitch."

"What? Why are we meeting up there?"

"Because we've got to show you in private. Something no one else can see but you."

"Show me what?"

"You'll see," Peter said.

"Meet us in twenty minutes," James told him, and the three of them rushed out of the dormitory.

Remus had half a mind to gather up his comforter and sheets again and go back to sleep, but at the same time, he didn't want the others to do anything dodgy without his supervision. He muttered a few good curses, which made him feel better, and then went to find a clean set of robes.

--

Remus marched down the dark lawn, straightening his prefect's badge as he went. He knew very well that no one would have cared whether or not he had it on if he was only going out to do something stupid at six in the morning, but he felt obligated to wear it.

"Where are they?" he asked himself. He could see the edge of the Forest now, and pink light was glowing over the tops of the trees, but he couldn't see his fellow Marauders anywhere in sight. He walked further on, and still didn't see them.

"If this is a prank—"

He stood in one spot and waited. He had the principle of staying put when separated in mind.

"I'm going to kill them," he repeated, and a chilly wind ruffled his clothing as he stood there like an idiot and stared.

The Forbidden Forest wasn't anything he was afraid of, really—he'd been going in with the others since he was twelve—but as he gazed into it, alone, and with his friends having mysteriously vanished, he couldn't help thinking that the Forest looked particularly sinister at current. There were all sorts of creatures inside, some innocent, like the unicorns, but most of them deadly, and that was why Hogwarts students were 'technically'—that's how James put it—supposed to stay out. He hadn't run across any of the _really_ dangerous animals in the Forest, but sometimes Sirius or James would grab him from behind and make him nearly wet himself. There were even rumors of werewolves being hidden amongst the foliage, but that was completely ridiculous, seeing as werewolves didn't even—

_Snap._

The back of his neck prickled. Unless he was imagining it, there'd just been a sound coming from the Forest, and it was too loud of a breaking noise to have been caused by the wind.

"_Shh!_"

That _definitely_ wasn't caused by the wind.

"Who's there?" called Remus.

And then, just as if he'd called him by name, a very enormous and very shaggy black dog tore out of the forest.

Remus yelped—for a second he thought it really _was_ a werewolf, or maybe a small bear, or a Grim—but then the dog stopped, and looked at him excitedly, and wagged its tail.

"Er," said Remus.

The dog galloped around him in circles with its tongue lolled out of its mouth. Remus watched it, and then knelt down onto the grass and held out his hand.

"Where's your owner?"

The dog had no collar, and it was certainly a long way from home, assuming it belonged to a family in Hogsmeade. But the dog seemed friendly, at least, and it sniffed his hand a few times before licking him in the face.

"Ugh," he grumbled, but he couldn't actually get mad at it, because he was sure it was only happy to see him. He wiped the slobber off his cheek with his sleeve and said, "Sit, girl. At least, I _think_ you're a girl."

The dog, if dogs could raise an eyebrow, raised an eyebrow.

"Sit," he repeated, and the dog sat. It still seemed a bit insulted.

"Er, heel. Stay. Whichever."

It went perfectly still and now looked at him expectantly.

"Shake?" he said, wondering if it would understand, and the dog lifted its right paw. Remus shook it and laughed.

"Roll over?"

It rolled over.

"Play dead."

It did a dramatic stagger to the side, acted like it suddenly lost the will to live, and dropped to the ground.

"Someone trained you really well," Remus said, amazed, and the dog got up again and came over for a congratulatory pat on the head. "Good girl!"

The dog shot him a look with its grey eyes.

"What?" he asked it, but then he noticed something. Just how many dogs had grey eyes?

"What's the matter, girl?"

It was as if he'd accidentally touched some sort of detonator. The dog twitched, and shook, and it changed all at once under his palm. Sirius was now crouching there with his hands on the grass, scowling.

"Do you honestly think I'm a girl dog?" he asked crossly, but then a smile broke out on his face.

"Bloody hel—Siriuswhat'reyou—what's—!" Remus babbled helplessly.

Sirius laughed his barking laugh.

"You _really_ need to see the look on your face, mate."

"_What_—?"

"They sent me out first because they thought I'd be the least likely to cause you to go into cardiac arrest. Didn't work, did it?"

"I—"

"James and Peter are waiting still. Shall I call them?"

"_Sirius_—"

"JAMES! PETE!"

Nothing happened for a second, and then, out of the Forest came a scurrying rat, followed closely behind by a large, handsome deer, who clambered over fallen tree limbs and low growing vegetation. Remus' mouth dropped open all over again.

"Don't catch your antlers on that branch," Sirius told him, and the stag quiet clearly rolled his eyes. The rat wiggled his nose in the air and then climbed onto Sirius' knee. He looked at Remus almost as if he were trying to smile at him.

"Sirius," said Remus faintly, "_What the hell's going on_?"

"Well," he replied, slowly, "James is a stag. And Pete's a rat."

"_WHY ARE ALL OF YOU ANIMALS_?"

"Oh," Sirius said, suddenly understanding. "It's because we're Animagi."

Remus, who really ought to have figured that out before Sirius told him, was reminded of a lesson from Professor McGonagall, back in third year, when she'd turned into a cat in front of them all and then became a witch again. She had said, "This is extremely advanced magic. I wouldn't expect any of you to be able to manage it in your lifetimes."

"H-how?" he blathered. "That's… this is _amazing_—"

"With a lot of hard work," Sirius told him, and the stag behind him bowed his head in a slow, graceful way, as though he intended to take all the credit. "We could have done it faster if you had your help, but we wanted it to be a surpri—"

An owl, carrying a bit of post in its talons, swept overhead, and the rat that was Peter Pettigrew gave a terrible squeak and morphed into a boy again—the weigh suddenly on top of Sirius flattened him.

"_Argh_!"

"Sorry!" wailed Peter, who immediately scrambled off. "I saw that thing coming and I couldn't help—"

"You broke my leg, you tosser," Sirius complained, but he was clearly fine, though maybe a little grass-stained, and James snorted at him and dug his hooves into the ground before changing into a fifteen year old with glasses and messy hair.

"Pete's got this problem with seeing predators," he explained. "When you're in animal form your mind changes too, you know. It's pretty weird when you suddenly get the urge to chew on plants."

"Or lick your own arse," Sirius added wistfully.

"You two don't have it nearly as bad," Peter complained. "I don't see why you're complaining. I'm a _rat_!"

"Pete, stop whining for god's sake," Sirius told him, and then, turning to Remus, he explained, "Pete only got the hang of it a few days ago. He's still in denial."

"And he's jealous because I've got such a nice rack," said James, mouth twisted into a smile.

"At least you're not going to be mistaken for a girl," sniffed Sirius. "Or maybe I should say a bitch?"

"You'll always be a bitch to me."

"Thanks, Jamie."

"No problem, Serious. You know, actually, I was laughing my butt off in there when I heard him saying that girl dog stuff. It's a wonder he didn't hear me."

"It's a wonder he thought I was really a dog! I was asking myself how thick he could possibly be, thinking I was just some really smart—"

"Are you registered?"

They turned around and looked at Remus, who had an expression on his face that said he was never going to recover from the shock.

"Have you—well, have you blokes registered yourselves? You're doing this legally, aren't you?"

"Nope," said James.

"And you've…" Remus said, putting his on his throbbing temples, "…you've been trying to do this for how long?"

"Going on three years now."

" I got the idea after you told us that it'd make things better if you could have company when you transformed, but that'd only work if we so happened to be woodland creatures—"

"…And you haven't registered?"

"Nope," repeated James. "If we register, they're going to figure out why we went through the trouble. See?"

Remus did see, but he didn't want to. He wished he had a large rock to hit his head on so that maybe he would wake up.

"Oh god," he croaked, "All of you are going to Azkaban."

"No one here's going to wind up in Azkaban," Sirius grumbled. "Stop worrying. Nobody's even gonna know about this except you. Can't you just be happy? Now we can hang out on the full moon like you've wanted!"

"Well—well of course I'm _happy_," he said, tripping over his own words. "I'm just—I'm _flabbergasted_, that's what I am. You went through all that work, and you've been trying for—_three years_, was it? And you're risking getting yourselves _arrested, _not to mention_ expelled_—"

"When have threats of punishment ever worked on us?" Peter said, shrugging.

"Well, I mean—Christ! I know you're my mates but… you've done all of this for _me_?"

"Who else did you think we would have done it for?"

Remus, who often wanted to murder them all, felt the urge briefly lift.

"Moony," James chirped, "You have _got_ to watch Sirius take a piss in dog form, though—he's made it into an art."

"I can do writing," Sirius said proudly.

The urge came back.

--

--

AN: The song is Good Morning, Good Morning by the Beatles!

I feel the need to tell you all that I suffer from too much knowledge of the Latin language, being a Latin student. I've already made a few Latin references, if you noticed, because Rowling has borrowed lots of words from it to come up with names, spells, and other words! Did you know that 'Animagus' is a combination of the Latin words for animal and magic?

On a somewhat related note, were you all aware that "padfoot" is just another name for a grim? It's one of those things that got lost in 'translation' for American readers, I think.

(This note keeps getting longer!) Uncle Alphard liked Sirius more because Regulus is a brat, of course!


	24. Year 5, Side Story: Advice

**Side Story: Advice**

Shortly after the Easter holidays, the fifth years started panicking. The O.W.L. exams were right around the corner, and as if they didn't have enough to worry about, notices that they would all have to attend mandatory career counseling appointments went up in the Gryffindor common room. They were to meet with their head of house, Professor McGonagall, next week.

"This is stupid," James complained.

"I agree with Prongs," Sirius said. "And if we're going to get out of class for something stupid, I'd much rather spend my time doing something worthwhile."

The nicknames had come almost immediately—Remus was already 'Moony,' so the others had wanted their own, for some utterly contrived reason. Sirius had suggested 'Padfoot' first, since it was rather obvious, but James and Peter took a few months to settle on their own. Since November, they had stopped being Moony and his more normally named friends, and were now Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

"It isn't stupid," Remus said, but the others couldn't possibly see the use in getting a little advice, probably in the same way that he couldn't possibly see the use in everyone having nicknames.

When it was time for his appointment, he went in nervously, even though it certainly wasn't the first time he'd been in Professor McGonagall's office. His friends were very often in trouble, and he felt like he'd had to testify in front of Professor McGonagall that they were innocent more times than he could count. Not that James, Sirius and Peter were ever innocent, but Remus' word alone had saved their necks on numerous occasions.

"How are you, Mr. Lupin?" Professor McGonagall asked, shutting the door. She gave him a tense smile.

"I—I'm fine."

"That's good," she said, and then she looked down at his hands. "Have you brought something?"

"I—well, I wrote some things down I was thinking I was interested in."

Professor McGonagall sat down and straightened a pile of pamphlets that said _Healers, Working For A Better Tomorrow!_ on them. The side of her mouth had twitched into a smile.

"You are certainly more prepared than any of your fellow Gryffindors I've spoken with today," she said. "I've made it halfway through the list and most of them haven't had a clue of what they might do with themselves after Hogwarts. Miss Lily Evans was the only one with a profession in mind when she came—she said she rather fancied the thought of working in Muggle Relations, though I'm sure that wouldn't be very taxing of her abilities, nor pay particularly well—"

"Yeah," said Remus, folding and unfolding the piece of parchment where he'd written his ideas. "She was saying she'd like that, especially now with the Anti-Muggle movements… er, if you had Lily this morning, then you also must have—"

"Had my conference with Mr. Sirius Black?" she supplied, and gave him a weary look. "Well, he went on at length about being torn between becoming a professional troll wrestler or training seeing eye Crups for the blind, neither of which, frankly, I could believe he was being serious about."

"I'm sorry," Remus said automatically, and he had difficulty keeping a straight face as he imagined Sirius going on at length about his ambitions.

"Well," continued Professor McGonagall, "Let us move on to the matter at hand. I have your records right here, Mr. Lupin, and as you probably are already aware, your marks are very favorable. You've done extraordinarily well in my classes, I must say, and your scores in Defense the Dark Arts are the highest I've seen in years… Potions appears to be your weakest subject, and even with that you seem to be currently averaging between 'Acceptable' and 'Exceeds Expectations'…"

She paused.

"What were you considering you might pursue as a career?"

Remus looked down at the list he'd made himself, saw the first bullet, and suddenly felt a little stupid.

"Well—well, my second choice was to work… work for the Ministry."

Professor McGongall surveyed him with an odd look. She was a very severe witch, who generally never seemed affected by anything, but Remus was certain he was seeing something in her face that was not purely calm indifference.

"Did you have a specific department in mind?"

"Er, well… the International Department, or Magical Law Enforcement maybe… but, but mostly… well, the Department for Magical Creatures, I think."

She made a mark on a piece of parchment with his name at the top.

"You want to work with werewolves," said Professor McGonagall, evenly.

"I was considering it," he answered.

"Mr. Lupin," she began, "As much as I believe that that is a fine idea, I honestly… well, you said Ministry work was your second choice, didn't you? Whatever was your first?"

"Oh. Er, basically, I… a professor."

"'Basically I a professor,' you say." She wrote something else down, and her expression was stranger than ever. "Here at Hogwarts? Which subject?"

He flushed.

"Transfiguration, actually."

Professor McGonagall laughed softly, and the sound of it caught him off guard. She did not often sound amused.

"Well. While I do not intend to give up my post at any point in the near future, I believe you would be an excellent candidate for the position, Mr. Lupin."

"Honestly?" he asked, surprised. "I mean—James has higher marks in Transfiguration than I do, doesn't he?"

"You two consistently tie for the status of my best student," she told him. "But don't think that marks are all that matters. I'm afraid I don't find Mr. Potter to have the temperament that would be necessary for my line of work. I'm sure he would be more suitable for something more like whatever Mr. Black was considering—dragon grooming, or experimental mandrake breeding, or whatever it was. "

Remus' anxiety lightened considerably.

"What classes do you recommend me to take for next year then?"

She hesitated, and then swept up a pamphlet that was labeled, _Touch Lives—Become a Magical Educator_.

"Obviously you will be needing to be continuing with Transfiguration courses if that is what you'd like to invest your time in, but I would recommend a rounded curriculum, to keep your options open. You never know what may interest you tomorrow, after all. I should also caution you that becoming a professor will require you to continue with your education after Hogwarts…"

"I guessed that," said Remus.

"You'd be surprised by the number of students that can't even fathom receiving a higher education," Professor McGongall said with a dry smile. "Though, unless I'm mistaken, I've gotten the impression that you rather enjoy your studies."

"Yes," he said quietly. "I really do like being here."

Professor McGongall did not comment as she handed him the pamphlet.

"Take a look at that when you have the time. And I suppose I should give you a few of these pamphlets from the Ministry as well…"

She shuffled them around, and then found the ones she was looking for. Professor McGongall gazed at them for a long time, and then, as if she had been dreading this part of the conversation, she said:

"You do realize that those with your condition often have undue complications when it comes to finding work?"

Remus nodded, slowly.

"I know. I've looked it up in the library, and everything I've read said that there are all these safety regulations. I'd have to find a way to work around them, and then I'd have to—"

"Then surely you also know that this is especially true in current times," she interrupted. "And, that once you've finished with your education, the odds of you finding yourself with a stable position will be rather slim."

"Yes," he said. "I know."

They were silent for a moment, and then Professor McGongall passed him the other pamphlets.

"Well, I believe we are done here for today," she said. "You are my last appointment for the evening, so please be so kind as to shut the door on your way out. Oh, and do wish Mr. James Potter good luck in tomorrow's match for me. I would love to see Gryffindor secure another win, wouldn't you? That Potter, I believe, has had much to do with our victories these past three years."

She nodded toward the Quidditch Cup, which sat on a shelf on the far wall.

"I will. Thank you, Professor," Remus said, and he picked up his list and moved from his seat.

"Remus Lupin," said Professor McGonagall, standing. "Hold on a moment."

He looked back at her as he reached out for the door handle.

"I typically attempt to remain as professional as possible while I handle these meetings," she told him, "but I should offer you some less professional advice."

Remus blinked.

"I'm afraid that you should be prepared for the worst, should you choose to pursue your ambitions once having left Hogwarts. You should know that the world outside these walls will not be kind to you."

Professor McGongall opened the door for him. Remus stepped out.

"You shall be a fine waste of talent," she said finally, and the door snapped shut.

--

--

AN: I AM AWARE THAT I ENDING UP WRITING A DEPRESSING CHAPTER.  
Alright, I would like for you all to take a vote in the review section. I have the final chapters written, but looking at them now, I feel like there should be more. (After this one, there would only be four more chapters.) I'd like your opinions on whether I should just go ahead and finish, or write five more chapters. I was planning on just making sixth year a short story, like I did with third, but I'm pretty sure I have the material to do all of it with, now that they're all Animagi and I have more options. Unfortunately, writing more will take more time, and that means I might not update for a few days. Cast your votes on what you'd like me to do!


	25. Year 5, Moonlight: Things to Fear

**III. Things to Fear**

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

The creases on Remus' brow were never going to flatten out again, if he wrinkled it any further. Lily was stomping away from them, furious, Snape was hanging upside-down in the air, James was making a spectacle of himself, and Sirius, Peter and twenty more were egging him on—

"I don't think," Remus said loudly, "that anybody wants to see that."

He didn't even dare hope that it was going to work, but, surprisingly, with the help of a little mob psychology, it did.

"_Gross!_" came a Ravenclaw girl's shrieking laugh. "Don't do it Potter!"

"Don't do it!" yelled a Hufflepuff, cackling. "My eyes will shrivel up!"

"He's telling the truth, Prongs," Sirius said, smirking. "Who knows what terrors could be lurking beneath Snivelly's pants?"

"You're right," James said, eager to agree with the crowd. He looked around with a haughty expression. "Don't want to cause anyone any physical pain, do I?"

He made sure everyone was watching before letting Snape fall out of the air and smack onto the ground again, proving that he meant anyone but Severus Snape.

"Aw, c'mon," Peter said, but everyone else seemed to have already lost interest. Snape suffered through more laughter at his expense as he staggered to his feet again, robes streaked with mud, but Remus was just glad he'd managed to do something. He was also convinced that a direct order would never have worked on James.

"_Accio wand!_"

Snape, who had just made a grab for his wand, watched as it shot away and into James' hand.

"We'll just be putting this somewhere safe," he laughed nastily, and then he chucked it, hard, as if throwing a Quaffle. It landed with a splash into the lake.

The crowd applauded as James took a dramatic bow, and Remus snapped his textbook shut and walked back toward the castle without saying anything. Peter noticed, and the others hurried to catch up.

Most of the students eventually dispersed, but a handful stayed behind to watch as Snape hitched up with robes and went in after his wand. Any of them could have easily assisted him, but no one did.

--

The practical portion of the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam came later that afternoon, and the rumor was that they would all have to go in and do battle with some sort of foul creature. This theory seemed to only strengthen when students began leaving the testing room while looking like they were going to be ill.

"Hey," James hissed at the third person to finish. She looked a little less troubled than the others had been. "What was it?"

"That's a personal question," she sniffed, and walked off.

"So helpful," he said, rolling his eyes. He then turned to Peter, on his right, and then to Sirius, who sat to his left. "Any ideas, boys?"

"I hope we get to fight an Acromantula," said Sirius excitedly, and he mimed blasting something to bits with his wand. "Or maybe a Basilisk!"

"Bah, they wouldn't try to kill anyone on purpose, though. They'd have to blindfold you and everything if there was really a Basilisk, and that wouldn't exactly be a fair fight. If they were going to go for deadly, something like a Chimaera would be more reasonable—at least with that they could stop it before it killed you for a bad guess."

"Yeah, but then Wormtail would automatically fail. The Chimaera would take one look at him and refuse to have to suffer through giving him his riddle."

"Har har, very funny."

A boy exited the examination room, his face pale and sweaty.

"Hey you," said James. "What was in there?"

"W-werewolf," he stuttered, and then staggered away.

The others turned to Remus with their eyes wide.

"Can't have been," he said quickly, but he couldn't shake the image of having to go in and battle one.

"Black, Sirius," said a witch, and Sirius got up, looking rather uncertain.

"Good luck," Peter said. The door closed.

"I just noticed you were sitting there by the way," James told Remus serenely. He sidled toward him on the bench they waited on. "Hullo, Moony. You aren't talking. What's the matter?"

Remus suddenly found the back of his hand to be extremely interesting.

"Nothing."

He was still feeling a bit grudging toward James.

"Doesn't _look_ like nothing."

"Hey," interrupted Peter, "If we were in a band, what instrument do you think I'd play?"

"I'm having a somewhat serious debate with Moony over here, you nonce," James told him.

"No really," he said, doggedly.

"Well, seeing as I'd be on the guitar, and Sirius would play bass, you'd take a drums. Moony'd play the kazoo."

"You've given this thought?" Remus asked, despite himself.

"It never occurred to you that the Marauders sounds like a good name for a band?"

"I really—" said Remus, but Peter cut across him.

"I was just thinking about it because that Kirley bloke was talking about wanting to start a band when he gets out of here."

"McCormack's brother? I heard he could play, but I never would have thought… what's he going to name his band?"

"Weird Sisters?"

"What a campy name for a—"

The door to the examination room opened again, and the witch brightly called for the next person as Sirius Black stumbled out and shook on the spot.

"Oh God," James whispered. "Sirius?"

"I cocked that up pretty well," he said, and smiled tremulously. Remus quickly shifted over as Sirius came to sit back down, and then he buried his face in his hands.

"Was it really that bad?" James asked him weakly. "You lose?"

"You don't _fight_ anything," he groaned. "I… Prongs, at the end they make you—they're making us banish a _boggart_… _God_, what are they _thinking_? They've brought in a boggart right now when we're all _terrified?_"

"Did you forget the incantation?" Remus asked, feeling confused. The spell used to defeat them, if he remembered correctly, wasn't particularly difficult.

"No, of _course_ I remembered…" he said miserably. "I just couldn't—"

"The hell did you see?"

"I saw… I saw myself," he said. "Christ, it was _me, _and I just lost it in there… it… it was—"

"Pads, _calm down_," James ordered him. He sounded frustrated. "Buggering—what, what was it? Saw yourself looking slightly less handsome, did you?"

"Shut up James," Remus said quietly. Sirius gulped.

"I—I was wearing a Death Eater's hood," he admitted, and his voice cracked. "I saw that I'd turned into a Death Eater. _A Death Eater_! Christ, I'm so scared that one day—I mean, the whole family's gone over now, even Regulus thinks it'd be a good idea, and my parents are right proud of him… I don't want to be one of them, I don't, I don't ever want to be a part of that, and what if one of these days—"

He broke off, unwilling to continue. James shot Remus and Peter looks that dared them to make fun of him, and then put an arm around Sirius's shoulder.

"S'alright," he said gruffly. "You're not like the rest of your family, Sirius."

"I'm being stupid, I know," he muttered, but he honestly didn't seem to think his worries were stupid at all. Remus and Peter looked on nervously, and Remus thought to himself that he probably couldn't even come close to understanding the depth of his fears—what would it be like, to belong to a family that believed in something so terrible? What would it be like, to be associated with the darkest of Dark Arts, and to be surrounded by the worst sort of people?

"It's just getting worse and worse," James sighed, just as Lily Evans exited the examination room and moved down the hall while looking white-faced and terrified.

'Lupin, Remus' was called within another twenty minutes, and he went in expecting to immediately confront a boggart, but the first part of the exam, at least, was completely boggart-free. He was asked to perform a number of defensive spells, and after being given fair warning, he had to block a jinx sent to him by one of proctors. Then, he was asked to stun a grumpy fire crab before it could burn his skin off his body, and to retrieve a jingly bell that was tied to its neck with a ribbon.

"Full marks so far, Mr. Lupin," said one of the old wizard who was overseeing the test, and he smiled as Remus handed him the bell. "Now, most students have been struggling with the final task we have for you, so I would suggest that you collect yourself before we begin—"

"I'm plenty collected," Remus said. He wanted to get this over with.

"Alright then. The final task is to show us the proper method of dealing with a boggart, if you would…"

A different proctor, as he spoke, lifted a trunk onto a table. It wobbly violently, as if the boggart inside was feeling confident that it was about succeed in frightening yet another victim.

"We will give you a moment to consider your strategy," the wizard said, trying to remain as vague as possible. He didn't want to be giving him any hints on what he should do. "Tell us when you are ready."

The thing that defeated a boggart, of course, was laughter, but Remus didn't exactly feel like laughing, nor did he know what form the boggart was going to take, because before now, a boggart was only a thing that existed in theory, or on the pages of his textbook. He had to think about what frightened him the most, and then he could decide what could defeat it.

But there were lots of things Remus was scared of. This list included failing his classes, or a giant asteroid hitting the Earth and wiping out civilization, or falling on his face in front of a million people he knew, but most of these seemed stupid and unrealistic. He was also afraid of what might happen in the future, and like most people, he feared dying at the hands of Lord Voldemort's followers, or just dying in general, once he'd gotten old and wrinkly. But those things just weren't personal enough to him, and the boggart wouldn't try to use those fears against him.

And then he thought he had it—the thing he feared most had to have been being lonely. He had been on his own far too often in his younger days to not be afraid of it, and he had always tried very desperately to fit in and be accepted, even when everyone else seemed to be doing things he thought were wrong. He feared speaking up to his friends because they were too kind to him, and he feared going against the grain when he was so delighted to be a part of the group. He knew, sadly, that he'd do anything to go along with them.

_What if_, he thought suddenly, _my friends were Death Eaters?_

"Had enough time?" asked the proctor.

"Er, I think so," Remus said, but he realized that he hadn't a clue how a boggart would take its form as a concept like 'abandonment.'

"Here we go—"

The trunk opened, and for an instant, he believed that the boggart must have been confused. He had thought that seeing James, Sirius, and Peter would have been more appropriate, with one of them checking his watch and perhaps telling him, 'Well, it appears that we hate your guts now, good bye forever Moony,' but he was witnessing nothing of the sort. Instead, a silvery orb appeared in the air above, and Remus realized that the boggart was doing an impersonation of the full moon.

"_Riddikulus!_"

With a crack, the moon had turned into cheese, and Remus couldn't help but snort at it.

"Very, very good!" cried the old wizard, and he forced the boggart back into the trunk with a wave of his wand. "Excellent! That concludes your examination, Mr. Lupin, you're free to go…"

Remus left the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam in high spirits, and he almost felt proud of himself for finding the full moon to be the symbol of his greatest fear, because to him, being afraid of his transformations seemed like a sensible fear to have. Perhaps this meant that he just needed a little more time to find that backbone he was looking for, and then he could stand up for what was right for sure.

_My friends could never be Death Eaters anyway_, he thought. _They're too thick._

If only Peter and James had done as well as Remus did with the boggart—Peter tearfully reported that he'd seen himself being eaten alive while in rat form, which had led to him needing to make an extremely awkward explanation for it. When James went next, his fear ended up being broadcasted to everyone waiting outside the examination room when a voice that was clearly Lily Evan's began shrieking "I _HATE_ YOU, POTTER!" at the top of her voice.

--

--

AN: Alright, well, I guess I'm writing more chapters then! I'll try my best to write quickly and not make you have to wait.

You guys want something written about life after Hogwarts? Well, I wasn't planning on it, but I can see what I can do with an epilogue maybe. (Hm…) Also, I was going to write about the Marauder's Map for sixth year anyway, so don't worry about that getting left out!

If you guys have any more requests I'll see if I can make them happen. =)


	26. Year 5, Moonlight: Lost

**IV. Lost**

It was the last full moon before summer would begin.

Remus sat waiting for the transformation to start, and reminisced warmly on the events of fifth year. This year, undoubtedly, had been filled with more happiness than he'd ever known. His moronic friends had gone and done something illegal, _again_, but for once Remus could only approve.

The moonlight hit, and turning wasn't too terribly painful, but that had become normal, recently. The werewolf even managed to keep himself from destroying anything while we waited for his friends to arrive.

Ten minutes passed, and Padfoot lollopped into the room. He was flanked by Prongs, who entered a bit more noisily, his feet clacking across the flooring. Wormtail was riding on Prongs' back.

_We're here!_

_Hi, Moony!_

_Hello…_

This was the strange part—strange, but useful. When they were all in these forms, they could communicate with their thoughts and body language as easily as they could as humans. Unfortunately, the werewolf didn't have enough control over himself to express anything in English, but he could easily understand what his Animagi friends had to say. As they were, he also had no desire to attack them, and it helped to cool his head when he could listen to their thoughts and remember what it was like to be human.

Padfoot came forward.

_Hiya, Moony! I'll spare you the arse-sniff greeting I'm tempted to give you. You doing okay?_

Padfoot, his form being a dog, was the easiest to communicate with of the three of them, because the wolf understood canine thoughts the best. Prongs and Wormtail sometimes sounded a little jarbled, because Prongs tended to think slowly and of calm forests and grass as a stag, and Wormtail always thought very frantically, and panicked when he heard small noises.

The werewolf gave Padfoot a meaningful look. He wanted to ask, _where are we off to this time?_

Padfoot wagged his tail.

_We were gonna go look near the far end of Hogsmeade for any more passageways. You know, over by Scrivenshafts'._

_After that one we found… that went into the Honeyduke's basement, _Prongs pondered serenely, _there's got to be… _ _more of them._

'_Cause there's a big hole in the map! _Wormtail exclaimed in his head._ Big hole!_

_Yeah, there's this big gap where something… else could be._

They slipped out of the Shrieking Shack, down the weed-choked lawn, and through the gate—the others had already unlocked it before transforming. Then they pounded along Hogsmeade's main street, hoping that no one was going to be looking out a window and see them. Seeing a dog or rat would be relatively normal, and the werewolf could pass for a dog too, but seeing a stag running along in the middle of the road was going to seem a little odd.

_Oh hey. Lookie there._

Padfoot doubled back to where someone had set out two overflowing rubbish bins. Parked next to them was what looked like a broken down and rusted—well, honestly, no one but Padfoot had the faintest idea of what it was.

_It's a motorcycle, you twits._

_Those things that… Muggles have? What's it doing here, then?_

_No idea. Might be why whoever owns it wants to throw it out._

_You reckon it's cursed or something? …Could be a Portkey even._

_You think?_

Padfoot went closer and gingerly stuck out a paw to touch it. When he didn't vanish from sight, he walked around it and sniffed curiously.

_Well, I can't smell any petrol in it, so no one's rode it for a while. Still smells pretty awful with this bloody sensitive nose though—ugh._

His tail wagged again.

_No one's gonna miss this thing. You think I should take it?_

_And do what with it? What, what, what?_

_Ride it, obviously._

_You know… how to ride?_

_Well, Dromeda didn't want him to, but that Ted Tonks let me take his bike for a spin last summer, and I got pretty good after the first few tries—stopped crashing into trees, anyway. He's a Muggle-born, you know, so he still loves his cars and motorcycles._

_That… Sirius Black, pureblooded wizard you know,_ Prongs thought, with an expression that was supposed to be a smirk. _Still loves… his cars and motorcycles._

_Shut up you. You'd know how fun it is if you gave it a try. It's a bit like riding a broom, really. There's nothing quite like traveling down the open road at breakneck speeds—not that I would consider doing something dangerous like that, of course._

…_Meaning that's all you ever did._

_You got me. Hm, I wonder how much the repair costs would be on this thing? I can't really properly check this thing out without thumbs…_

_At least all of you… blokes have got paws. I've just got… these things._

Prongs stamped his hooves on the cobblestone street.

_Yeah, I guess so. Paws are still pretty useless though. 'Cept for the claws. The claws are nice._

_I… don't even have sharp teeth, Pads. That makes me a sad herbivore._

Just then, as if responding to the comment about sharp teeth, the werewolf snapped at the air with his jaws and growled. They realized that their friend was standing in a patch of street that was suddenly glowing with the dull light of the moon.

_Oh crap, I think a cloud just shifted—_

_Prongs! Padfoot! Help me! Help!_

Wormtail was of no use, but Prongs moved to block the wolf and keep him from bolting, and Padfoot ran up and took the rear. The werewolf butted his head against Prongs, but he held his ground, and the wolf's struggling was useless.

_No. Bad werewolf. Bad. You know better, Moony. _

The werewolf whined at them, but seemed to regain control of himself.

_We ought to get going._

_I still want to check out the—_

_Pads, if we… don't move, he might lose it. The bike isn't… worth the risk._

Padfoot gave the best shrug he could in his present body, and told himself that he would check to see if it was still there in the morning.

They wandered elsewhere, and slinked down alleyways and kept to the shadows, so that the werewolf wouldn't be exposed to more moonlight than he had to be. Unfortunately, their plan wasn't working particularly well. The cloud cover was very slim, so nearly all of the ground was lit up, and the werewolf continued to be disobedient.

_God, what's up with you? Stop it, Moony!_

_Stay put!_

The werewolf just grumbled and twitched.

Upon reaching the edge of the village, they ducked between Scrivenshaft's and the little shop next door, and came to a residential area. They went to work combing the place for anything that looked suspiciously like an entrance.

_Eek! Gonna eat me! Gonna eat me, gonna eat me, gonna eat me!_

Wormtail had spotted a cat, curled up on someone's porch, across from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Wormtail did a nervous little dance on the street, and Prongs and Padfoot glanced at each other. The wolf's eyes darted toward the Forest.

_Oh, stop crying Wormtail. Watch this,_ Padfoot thought, and he shot straight toward it. The cat gave a yowl and darted off.

_Ha ha! That thing nearly… nearly had a heart attack!_

_Yeah, it did, didn't it? Heh heh!_

_Thank you! Gosh, thank you Padfoot!_

_No proble—OY! MOONY!_

The beast was snarling again, and he saw his opportunity, now that the others had been distracted.

_NO! BAD BOY! VERY BAD BOY!_

It was too late. The werewolf moved quickly, and slipped until the stag's leg. He wove behind some trees, and disappeared.

_MOONY GET BACK HERE! BAD!_

_MOONY!_

But he was gone, completely gone.

They had set a werewolf on the loose.

_Shit_, thought James, and the others couldn't have thought it any better themselves.

--

James, Sirius, and Peter went sprinting over the grounds.

"God dammit, he better not have gotten this far—"

It was just a little past nine in the evening, so when they tore over the grounds, there were still a few students standing outside, particularly fifth years, who were pacing back and forth and reciting information for the final exam. They wanted to tell everyone to get inside as soon as possible, but that would lead to suspicious questions—

"Okay, Wormtail, you check that way, I'll check—"

"Oy. Is Remus with you?"

As much as James loved Lily's voice every time he heard it, this was absolutely the worst timing possible. She had been standing on the front steps, and a few of her friends were giving Sirius giggly, lovesick expressions.

"Hi there, Evans," James said, his voice much too high. He wiped his glasses simply because he hoped that she was just talking smudge on his lens, and not actually getting in the way of a rescue mission.

"I was asking if Remus was around. I don't want to make small talk with _you_."

"Funny you'd ask about him," Sirius told her at once. "We were just looking for him too. Well, we'll be off now—"

"Are you guys up to something?" she asked. Of course they were, but she couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Shouldn't you be studying?" inquired Peter.

"Shouldn't _you_?"

"You know, it's really great to get to talk to you Evans, but we really ought to catch up at some other time—we've got somewhere we need to be—"

"What have you morons done?" Lily asked suddenly. "Is something bad going to happen to Remus?"

"Nothing at all," Sirius answered evasively. "Now go away."

"You can't tell me what to do, Black."

"Look," James said, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he struggled to think fast enough. "We really—really—need to go potentially save some innocent lives here. Can we please not get the twenty questions? We've got to run."

"James Potter," Lily began, voice going dangerously soft, "If someone's going to get hurt because of you—"

"We're not the ones going to be doing the hurting," Sirius said helplessly, and James elbowed him in the ribs.

"_Tell me what you did_."

"We can't. We really, really would if we could—"

"Is Remus going to get hurt? Who else? A teacher? As many people as you could manage to get involved?"

"All of the above if you don't let us go," James growled at her.

"Don't treat me like some sort of idiot, Potter," responded Lily, just as angrily. "If you've honestly done something so terrible then—well, maybe I don't want to see anyone die, ever think of that? I would rather not wait around and hope you idiots sort things out."

"Are you offering your _help_?"

"Possibly," she sniffed. "Depends on whether I feel like it once you've told me the whole story."

"We can't," James said, reluctantly. "Evans, we can't let you help."

"_Why not?_"

"But that's—" Sirius protested, "That is a really good idea though, Prongs! We can all go back to Hogsmeade, and she could tell those friends over there to guard the entrances and that'd really help us out—"

"_Back to Hogsmeade_?" hissed Lily, but they somehow managed to completely ignore her.

"You're forgetting the part where we'd have to tell her why she's doing it, Pads!" moaned James.

"She doesn't honestly need to know what she's protecting people from, does she?" Sirius argued.

"Yes she does! What if she sees him and doesn't run and winds up getting bitten? What if _anyone_ gets bitten?"

"How likely is that?"

"I'd rather have the chance be zero—"

"Maybe if you just _told me what's going on_," Lily began irritably.

"It's—well," James told her nervously. The situation had turned rather helpless. "It's Remus' furry little problem, you know—"

Lily glared at all of them.

"Don't tell me. You're going to say that his rabbit's gone and turned into a serial killer?"

The Marauders looked at one another.

"I suppose this _is_ an emergency," James said. Could Lily Evans keep a secret?

"It's an emergency," Sirius agreed.

"And as his friend, she really ought to know—"

"She ought to know," Sirius agreed again.

"_Tell me or I'll give you all detentions for the rest of your lives,_" Lily demanded, furiously.

"Ha, we are well on our way to that without your help," Sirius told her.

"_How about I just slit your throats._"

Lily was the other Gryffindor prefect, and she, unlike Remus, did not make empty threats, because Lily Evans had a backbone. The Marauders glanced at each other desperately.

"We can't," James answered finally, still holding his ground despite the immediate whining noises behind him.

"I think we need to consider the fact that I am a pureblood, and therefore a dying breed," Sirius said. "I really can't afford to bleed to death."

"I just don't want to die," whimpered Peter.

"Don't give in," James begged them. "Stay strong mates, we can't—"

"_YOU ARE GOING TO_ _TELL ME!_"

"Alright!" announced James, terrified. Lily was about to bite part his arm off, and he could already feel it. "I've decided, I'm telling her!"

Then he paused.

"Well, I _really_ ought to preface this with something that'll soften the blow—"

"He's a werewolf!" Peter blurted out.

--

--

AN: I need to go on hiatus for a few days to catch up. Enjoy the suspense everybody! =D (Commence evil laughter.)


	27. Year 5, Moonlight: And Found

**V. And Found**

_That buggering werewolf_, Prongs was thinking. _…That _buggering_ werewolf._

_Don't think about Moony like that, _Wormtail mentally implored him.

_But if he… bites somebody—_

Padfoot's nose twitched. _If he's even _seen_, you mean._

_God, what're we gonna do? What're we gonna do?_

_It's pretty obvious isn't it? We find him before they have to put him down for mauling someone!_

_PADS._

_Sorry—_

It wasn't very often that the Marauders were serious, but they were definitely scared out of their wits that the werewolf wasn't going to be found in time.

_Wormtail, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't so titchy!_

_What! What! I can't help if you're a stonking great dog and Prong's a stag! You could eat me like this! You could!_

_Maybe we _should!

_Stop fighting!_ Prongs shouted at them in his thoughts. _Whose fault it was… doesn't matter! We need to find… Moony!_

_We should split up then!_

_Alright, fine. Wormtail, you head to the village square. Padfoot, you go down that way. We… need to make sure he hasn't snuck back from the Forbidden Forest. That's the most important thing._

So they searched, and searched, and it was nearly midnight before they'd come to the conclusion that the werewolf had indeed not come back into Hogsmeade, and the streets were so silent it had appeared that no one had seen him either. They met up again in front of a shady pub called the Hog's Head.

_He's still out in the Forest then. You'd think… he would have been closer to where people are, though!_

_Maybe he's trying to keep himself out there because he knows he'd hurt someone! You think, you think?_

_No idea, honestly. What now?_

_Wormtail, you keep circling the… edge of Hogsmeade. If you see him, transform… then send up red sparks, because you can't… stop him on your own. Pads and me will be searching the Forest._

As they parted again, they began to get the feeling that it would be a long night.

--

Wormtail skittered along, making his fourth round. He didn't like the patrolling job very much—he would have rather joined the search party.

He passed by another rubbish bin, left out by another wizard family. There was no motorcycle nearby, but he was surprised to see a dozen rats all swarmed about it, picking bits of old food out and enjoying themselves.

_Disgusting._

The rats looked at him. One of the bigger, fatter ones seemed to be asking, _and just who might you be?_

_Hello,_ Wormtail attempted. _Er, I'm actually a human but… any of you seen a werewolf?_

_Food,_ one of the rats was thinking.

_Food! Yum!_

_Food time. Munch, munch, munch._

_Want food?_

_No thanks,_ thought Wormtail, revolted, and kept moving.

--

The other dogs in Hogsmeade had not seen a werewolf, as far as Padfoot was able to discern, so there was a good chance that the wolf was very deep into the forest by now. Padfoot jumped over fallen logs and avoided poison ivy as he made his way toward the heart of the forest, where the trees were denser, and darker.

_Prongs would be pissing himself about now,_ Padfoot realized, as the foliage began to grow so thick that he could barely slip through even as a dog. James had made the mistake of telling him that he was a little claustrophobic—a result of crawling into a self-locking cupboard when he was small—in their very first year, so Padfoot amused himself by imagining a panicking Prongs at his side for a little while.

However, the thought became less funny as he kept moving and his surroundings became scarier—he wished Prongs really _was_ at his side, because he was quite alone.

Padfoot howled, hoping that the call would catch the werewolf's attention, but there was no answer.

--

"There!" came a whisper.

It was a lucky thing that Prongs had paused in his fast clip through the forest, because an arrow went flying in front of him, inches from his chest.

The bushes shifted—a group of centaurs had just become visible, and it appeared that they were hunting for some nice deer meat to have for the morning's meal.

"You missed!"

"Not this time," said a black-haired one in front, and he readied his bow again.

_SHIT!_

Prongs dashed away from the arrows that rained down on the spot where he'd been, wishing that Padfoot was with him, because he could have scared them away…

--

There was a trail of fresh blood on the forest floor.

_Oh no…_

Padfoot snuffled along, following the scent and the dark stains that seemed to have been left there by something that had been dragged over the ground.

He came around a large oak, and there the werewolf was, lying on the ground and whining. He was licking at his leg, which was shining wet with blood.

_God, what happened?_

The werewolf could not answer, but he did seem to recognize his friend. He made a whimpery noise, as though asking for his help.

_What did that to you?_

He looked over, and saw a bloodied trap. It was still snapping a bit on the ground, but it appeared that the werewolf had at one point broken it apart in his attempt to get it off of him.

_It's okay, Moony. We'll help you—just hold on, I'll be back in a second—_

Padfoot got a safe distance away before he dared to change back and send up sparks for help.

--

It was a bit like waking up much in the way that Snow White might have—on a pillow soft bed, with sunshine falling into his face, birds twittering, and with friendly forest creatures at his side, come to assist him with preparing for another lovely day of doing chores and singing.

But then he realized he was really lying on his side on the hard floor of the Shrieking Shack, and the early morning sunlight was coming in through a window with broken glass, and the twittering birds outside were actually crows, making unpleasant, croaky noises. The forest creatures around him were more like the Marauders.

Padfoot jumped up onto all fours and much like a dog would shake water off itself after getting wet, he shook himself back into a teenage boy.

Sirius muttered, "He's safe now, I think."

Prongs turned into James, and Wormtail into Peter. They all gazed at him with worried expressions.

"I am completely naked," Remus said finally, stating a matter of fact. "How delightfully uncomfortable this moment is."

There was an uneasy silence.

"Yes you would be," Sirius confirmed.

James made a grab for the curtains behind them and tore them clean off the windows. He dropped them over Remus.

"Ta-da!" cried James. "Naked no longer!"

"Bl—bloody h-hell," he coughed. The curtains were terribly dusty, and riddled with spider webs. "How long were you all staring?"

"Not terribly long," Peter said.

"Good to hear," he said composedly. "Hold on, let me stand—oh Jesus Christ."

Standing, he now saw that the horrendous scar he'd gotten when he'd turned into a werewolf seemed to now have a twin on his opposite leg, only the new wound went all the way around his calf and still oozed. It looked terrible, and it was surprising, really, that he didn't feel it.

"It was worse before," explained James. "We tried to fix it up, and make it stop hurting—you stepped in a bloody trap, mate."

"Did I?" he asked, vaguely horrified. He examined it, and he sincerely hoped that it was not going to hurt as badly as it looked once whatever spell that was stopping the pain wore off. "Well, I can't feel anything below my knee, so thanks for that—hold on, a trap? Where the hell did someone set up a trap? In Hogsmeade?"

"Er, no," said Peter, and he twisted his hands. "It was in the Forbidden Forest, actually."

"You gave us the slip last night Moony," Sirius said gravely. "We nearly lost you—well, not nearly. We _did_ lose you."

"Argh," he said in response. He drew the curtain tighter around himself. "_Please_ tell me you're lying."

"Unfortunately we're not."

"I _told you_ it gets tougher on clear nights, didn't I?"

"Er, you might have… but no one was injured though! Don't worry!"

"Sometimes I wonder why I agree to go out," Remus groaned. "You all are utterly irresponsible. What if we'd been in the castle? Bloody hell—"

"Also," James said, preemptively wincing a bit, "We definitely might have told someone you're a werewolf."

Remus nearly dropped his curtain.

"_What?_ WHO?"

"Evans, it was only Lily Evans—

"Wha—!" he started, but couldn't quite finish. "_No_. No you didn't. No you bloody _didn't._"

"Look, we had to, she started asking questions, and we really needed her help—"

"Oh my _God_," was all he could say. "How did she _react_? Did she _believe_ you?"

"I think she believed us," Peter told him hesitantly. "She told us it sort of made sense, but she was really surprised—"

"She wouldn't have been so surprised if you hadn't told her quite so bluntly," James muttered.

"Yeah, we definitely nearly killed her with the shock. But she's alright, we think. Wormy went back up the castle to tell her we'd found you—she was really relieved—look, don't kill us, you're fine now, right?"

"I'll have to put the murdering off until later," Remus sighed. "Madam Pomfrey will be here in five minutes, if you're telling me that I've just turned back—uhg, I just can't believe it. You told Lily. _You told Lily_—"

"We'll explain why we had to once Madam Pomfrey gets you back up to the castle," James said, exasperated.

"God, how am I going to explain this, James?"

"Hell if I know! Tell her you cut yourself on something!"

Remus made a noise that died in his throat and then shook his head.

"Just let me go downstairs and get my robes, I would really like to wear clothing again—"

"Yeah. We'd better get out of here, too…"

"We'll see you in time for the History of Magic exam," Peter told him. "I want to get some sleep first, though—"

"No sleep at all last night," explained James, and he yawned. "But s'not like any of us are worried we won't be able to fulfill our dreams of becoming historians if we fail this next one—"

"We're sorry," Sirius apologized at last, using the puppy eyes on him. "We really let you down last night, Moony. We know you don't want to hurt anyone, and you've trusted us to keep you safe from people, but he really, really failed at it miserably—"

"Just go get some sleep," Remus said. "All of you looking uncharacteristically dejected. It's alright. Honest."

He wished he could have sounded more sincere, but between the crisis they had narrowly averted, Lily knowing, being naked, and having a giant chunk missing from his leg, it was a little hard.

The Marauders hurried off, and Remus finally hobbled over to the cupboard with a bit of a sigh. He would have told Lily eventually, but he wished he'd been the one to do it, and not in the middle of an emergency—

He threw on his robes just as Madam Pomfrey made her entrance.

"Hullo, I've hurt my leg," Remus said, mechanically.

"Really? And you've been doing so well, lately. Which one, dear?"

"This one…"

He showed his injury off to her, and she shook her head and clucked her tongue at him.

"Did you try to right it on your own? That's dangerous, you should have let me handle it… well, alright then, sit down here and let's see what we can do…"

Remus seated himself on the arm of the broken sofa, and then Madam Pomfrey withdrew her wand from her robes. Then, she hesitated.

"Mr. Lupin," she began, "a very odd thing happened last evening."

Remus' insides went suddenly cold, and he wondered, wildly, if his friends had neglected to mention something important to him, such as, for example, a pile of dead bodies that he was responsible for.

"It was Miss Lily Evans," she continued, eyebrows raised a bit. "She came to the Infirmary and wanted to confirm with me whether it was true about your condition. Were you the one that told her?"

"Yes," Remus lied, immediately. "I—I wanted her to know."

"Hm," Madam Pomfrey murmured, absentmindedly. Remus was surprised she wasn't already writing him a detention slip. "Well, I cannot say that I approve, but I know that Evans is your friend, so—"

She touched the tip of her wand to the wound, and it stopped looking like he'd been put through a cheese grater.

"Honestly, though," she said, and another spell caused the swelling to stop. "If you wanted to be truthful with her, why ever would you have waited until now to tell her?"

Remus considered him for a moment, and suddenly he knew exactly the right thing to say.

"Because it's a little insignificant, isn't it?"

In truth, Remus was no longer that scared little boy he had once been, the one who had stood before the Hogwarts Express and thought he was too short and plain to be noticed. He no longer felt that the only interesting thing about him was that he was a werewolf, and he no longer wished at every moment that he was not one, because his condition wasn't something he could always fall back on to blame.

Part of it was because he'd grown taller, but it was mostly because he had finally found his place in the world—a place in the world as Moony, a Marauder, a cartographer, and also as the talented and most certainly brill Remus J. Lupin.

Madam Pomfrey smiled at him, but remained silent as she worked to mend his leg. Soon, Remus would be able to stand up again on his own two feet.

--

--

AN: Not entirely up to speed yet, but here's an update for you all because you've been patiently waiting! =D

Basically, my aim in these last few chapters is to give each character some closure, starting with Remus.

On a personal level, Lupin has been my favorite character ever since he was introduced because he was always very interesting to me. Rowling definitely went into dark territory with him, and she has described him as a "damaged person," and also as someone who has suffered through discrimination and feelings of loneliness or helplessness his whole life. (She meant for him to be an example of the way we often shun and fear those who are ill or handicapped.) I really tried to hit on a theme of "just wanting to be noticed/liked" with Lupin for these reasons.

Other fans I know of tell me they stopped liking Lupin at the end because of his actions in DH, but you know what? Stress can bring out the worst in all of us, and also, if you really look at Lupin in previous books, I think that the fears and irrationalities he has were there all along. I don't like him any less for it, actually—I thought Rowling did an excellent job in handling Lupin as a victim of society, and the things he has gone through.

Lupin and Tonks getting together was a fun development for me. Some people didn't like it, but I was happy for them because, well, they're so completely opposite that I think they made an adorable couple. However, Tonks and Lupin's deaths… ugh! Rowling has given her explanations—to have another boy orphaned by the war, to finish off the last surviving Marauder, to kill parent figures, to have Lupin be there in the woods before Harry went to Voldemort's camp, etc—but still I thought it was ridiculous, and cruel, for her to kill them. I can think of quite a few reasons why she didn't need to do it, and maybe I'm just too emotionally attached, but I don't think I'll ever see why their deaths were well justified.

Sixth year—the promised five extra chapters—is next. :)


	28. Year 6, Side Story: The Tales of Summer

**Side Story: The Tales of Summer**

Sirius edged into the miserably dark drawing room where his mother sat waiting. Her eyes were closed, and her body was so still that Sirius hoped for an instant she'd had the decency to die.

But then, just as Sirius dropped into a chair across from her, her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him furiously.

No such luck._  
_

"So," she said. She ground out the syllable with what seemed like an enormous amount of effort. "I have… heard a _rumor_."

"I haven't done anything," said Sirius, immediately. "I was upstairs in my room just now, just like you've—"

"You will keep _quiet _when I am _talking_."

It would do no good to point out to her that she hadn't been, so Sirius settled for a standard, "yes, Mother."

"Sirius," said Mrs. Black, nostrils flaring but speaking in at a volume that was nearly silent, "I am told that earlier this afternoon--you _left this house_."

Sirius' mother had a very predictable pattern to her screaming: first, a very quiet accusation, which was generally something ridiculous, such as, 'so you just thought it would be a good idea to leave your boots lying about in the foyer?' or, 'it seems that you haven't eaten your peas.' Then the louder accusations came, generally even more insane, like the fact that boots could easily trip people and cause horrendous injuries, or that each and every pea he hadn't touched represented an expense to the Black family, wasted on their ungrateful, blood-betraying son. Then the ranting would escalate in volume and turn more to an incomprehensible shrieking, with the time that she spent screaming at him being the only real indicator of how angry she really was.

"Left?" Sirius repeated, glancing to the side and acting like he was having difficulties with recalling. "Er, I might have."

"You did, did you?" said his mother. Her eyes had narrowed so much that they seemed to have closed again. "Thought you'd just go stretch your legs? Thought you'd like to see a little sunshine? Thought you'd just walk out of my home without even so much as having my_ permission?_"

"I didn't even do anything!" Sirius protested, turning back to his mother. "I walked maybe two blocks, that's all—"

"I have been led to believe that was _not_ all," sneered Mrs. Black. "We have many good friends watching this area, Sirius, and I've been informed that—I'm told that you—you had the—the sheer _audacity_ to go up to those little—little _Muggle_ shops!"

"I didn't," he lied, "I didn't go—"

"_Accio!_"

An empty bag of crips and a fluttering magazine—both of which, he'd gotten at the corner store mere hours ago—zipped into the room, and his mother caught them, looking triumphant. Sirius found himself suddenly feeling murderous toward whoever had invented that spell.

"Didn't go, you say. _Didn't go._ Then what—are—_these_?"

"You're shoving rubbish into my face," Sirius complained, when she brandished the crisp bag at him and crumbs flew out.

"WHERE DID YOU GET THE MONEY FOR THIS?" she screeched. "ONE OF YOUR LITTLE MUDBLOOD FRIENDS?"

"_No!_" he complained, but then instantly regretted that he hadn't just gone ahead and blamed James or someone else she hated without ever having met them, because then he had to admit, "I've—I've been collecting—"

"WHAT?" Mrs. Black roared. "_'COLLECTING?'_ I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN PICKING DROPPED CHANGE OFF THE STREET THEN, HAVE YOU? OR HAVE YOU BEEN _STEALING_ IT?"

"I _haven't_—I _bought_ them! With Muggle money I have! It was harmless, Mother, I just wanted to have something to do—it's just crisps and bunch of stupid comics—"

But she wasn't listening.

"I CANNOT _BELIEVE_ THIS! HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE OUR FAMILY LIKE THIS? HOW DARE YOU BRING THIS RUBBISH INTO THIS HOUSE? NO SON—NO SON OF MINE WILL STOOP TO SUCH LOWS—"

"But you've already told me I'm not your son and never will be your son," Sirius muttered, but this was a massive mistake—his eyes widened as he watched his mother shred his magazine to pieces and throw what was left of it onto the floor.

"I WILL _NOT_ HAVE YOU TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT! I'VE HAD QUITE ENOUGH OF YOUR CHEEK! YOU ARE TO GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM AND STAY THERE UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN COME OUT! NO MAGIC! NO OWLS! NO MEALS FOR THE REST OF THE _WEEK!_"

Sirius gaped at her. He could put up with all but his last punishment—his bag of crisps had been finished a while, and his stomach was already rumbling.

"No—Mother, you can't—I'm _sorry_, I swear I won't ever do it again—_please_, Mother, you _can't_—"

"_OUT! _OUT OR I WILL TELL YOUR FATHER ABOUT THIS!"

Sirius pulled himself out of his chair and pelted into the foul-smelling hallway, feeling the rare urge to burst into tears—it seemed very tempting, actually, until he discovered that Regulus had been standing there the whole while, listening in. Sirius swallowed hard and willed himself not to cry in front of him.

"Ooh, a whole week, is it?" snickered Regulus. "Mum's really out to kill you this time… hope she'll be letting you out to use the toilet…"

--

"For the last time, stop sneaking around in my room!"

Petunia stuck out her tongue at her sister.

"What's with you, anyway? Your room looks like a toilet. Don't you ever clean?"

"Yes I do," Lily said indignantly, and she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "I think twice a month is fine enough, don't you?"

"I'd clean it every day," Petunia said, looking superior.

"Then you obviously have too much time on your hands," Lily said savagely. "Now get out! You know you're not allowed to touch my school things! Especially not my wand!"

"I was just rearranging—"

"Rearranging my arse! Trying to do magic again, honestly! Petunia, you're a _Muggle _and that's all there is to it! Get over it!"

She snapped her door shut, and Petunia muttered bitterly to herself before moving away.

"I'm trying…"

--

"Peter!" snapped Mrs. Pettigrew. She looked at her son irritably. "Walk a little faster would you?"

"I'm trying," he answered, panting a little. The groceries in Peter's arms were feeling heavier by the minute, and his mother, the lightest of their shopping bags in hand, strutted forward at an even quicker pace.

"Awful idea—terrible idea—place is absolutely packed with them—"

If she'd still been looking at her son, she would have seen that he'd stopped altogether, because one of his bags had split open. Groceries had gone tumbling out onto the street.

"—we could have Apparated to Diagon Alley if you were older—we could have gone by Floo if I could trust you to come out at the right grate—"

Peter set down his bags with a grunt, secretly thankful for the chance to rest his arms.

"—if I wasn't dealing with this divorce I'd get a tutor for you—you just hopeless, Peter, I won't be surprised if scrape by on just two or three OWLS—"

He reached out to a potato that had rolled about a meter in front of him just as a bicyclist sped past and smashed it under his wheels.

"—honestly, sometimes I think those Death Eaters are right—world would be a lot better place without them all—wouldn't have to put up with this sort of—_Peter Pettigrew_, what—are—you—_doing?"_

--

"More potatoes, Jamesy?"

"Sure Mum," said James, and he let the nickname pass with the smallest wince he could manage. His mother—a rather sprightly woman with grey hair—passed him the bowl.

"Keeps getting worse," Mr. Potter sighed, setting down the evening _Prophet_. He was grey and balding, but this wasn't even half of what made him look so tired. "Attacks all up and down the country…"

"Does it say why, dear?"

"No… still under Ministry investigation… no doubt that Crouch's got a lot on his plate tonight…"

"They must be getting ready for something big," James said, gazing around the table with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Something _really_ big."

"Oh, don't talk like that," said Mrs. Potter, shuddering. "The last thing we want is for full-scale war to break out…"

"We'll be lucky if that's the least that happens," said James' father, and he looked to his son with a flash of his glasses. "Your mate have any idea what's going on, son?"

James shook his head.

"Sirius? No, he hasn't got a clue. They've taken to pretending like he isn't even there half the time, last time I've heard. He said his folks put all sorts of charms on his bedroom whenever there's something important going on in the house too—he reckons You-Know-Who himself could probably be one of their dinner guests and he'd never even know."

"Poor dear," Mrs. Potter said sadly, and Mr. Potter looked troubled as well. James had always been glad that his parents were such good sports about Sirius—they'd been a little nervous, the first time they'd heard the name 'Black,' but then Sirius had done a magnificent job of removing all doubt as to his alliance upon their first meeting: he'd called his entire bloodline a bunch of shitheads right in front of them.

Not very subtle, but it had gotten the point across.

"Brave boy, he is," Mr. Potter said at last. "I'd have gone nuts by now. Sixteen years of it… blimey."

"You've invited him over already, haven't you, James?" Mrs. Potter asked sharply.

"Yeah. He says he'll try to come over next week…"

"Good," she said, giving James a warm, approving look, and then stood up from the dining table. "Did everyone save room for pudding?"

Just then, there came a pounding at the front door, and Mrs. Potter glanced at the rain that dashed against their window and wondered allowed, "Who would be out in this storm?"

"I'll go see who it is," said James, and at the same time, his father pushed back his chair while drawing his wand.

"Dad?"

Mr. Potter cast a meaningful gaze at the _Prophet_ and James nodded his head. His father led the way to the front room, and he looked suspiciously through the little pane of glass at the top of the door.

"Good Lord," said James' father, and he seized the handle. On the other side of the door was Sirius, completely drenched, shaking with cold, and suddenly resembling an abandoned puppy, left out in a storm. His motorcycle was parked just outside the Potters' gate.

"Pa—!" James caught himself. "_Sirius!_"

"Hi," said Sirius, shivering a little harder. "I don't have a home anymore so—can I come in?"

--

Severus stood gazing out of his dusty curtains. He lifted his face to the night sky, but he could hardly make out any of the stars, with the air being so hazy with pollution and thick with rain. He touched the angry, purple bruise on his cheek and could still hear his father raging downstairs. His mother was pleading with him to stop, as she always was.

"Mudblood, I called her," Severus muttered to himself, and the curtains swung closed.

--

His curtains were thrown open, and the little attic bedroom was suddenly glowing with light. Remus twitched under his blankets, feeling the bright assault on his lidded eyes. He rolled over with a groggy mumble.

"Up, up, lazy," said Mrs. Lupin fondly. "It's nearly ten and we've got plenty to do today."

"_Mum—_m'tired_—_"

"You've had _plenty_ of sleep, Remus. I've only let you go on this long because I know growing boys need their rest. Now get dressed and come on downstairs, and I'll make you up some eggs just the way you like them. How's that sound?"

"Nm," he replied, which was about the most articulate answer he could think to give. Remus gave in to the temptation of breakfast and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing his paisley pajamas—the pair he never wore while at Hogwarts if he could help it.

"Knew that'd make your mind up for you. Alright now, c'mon, out of bed…"

There was the sound of someone moving on the attic stairs, and Mr. Lupin came up, a stack of letters in his hand.

"Lots of post today, Rhea," Remus' father explained, and then he turned to him. "Up now, are you then, Remus? You've been sent an owl from one of your mates—that Potter boy, I think."

Remus yawned as he was passed the letter.

_Moony,_ it said, _guess who's run away from home?_

And below the first sentence, now in Sirius' handwriting, was:

_Wotcher, Moony._

--

--

AN: Alright, we're back in business with an unplanned side story I'm throwing in because of this miserably long wait! Sorry, lots of problems going on in my life right now, and if I put off my English paper any longer I'm going to die by grade death. Also, I can't get upcoming the date chapter right. (Spoiler'd.)

The name Rhea was a terrible mythology joke. Go google it if you're curious but it'll probably just be a groaner. xD


	29. Year 6, Fortune: James' Misery

**!STOP!: I've recently added a new side story BEFORE this chapter. Go back and read it! **

This message will be deleted in one week.

* * *

**I. The Misery of James  
**

James, wearing the Invisibility Cloak, darted around the corner on the forth floor corridor. He was trying to reach a certain mirror, where a secret passage to Hogsmeade awaited him.

Lily, coming back from the library, also located on the forth floor, walked swiftly back towards the staircase. It awaited her around the exact same corner.

"WHA—?"

"ARGH!"

Lily Evans collided with an invisible barrier. Parchment and ink exploded everywhere, and a book flew at James Potter and smacked him square in the forehead. He was knocked backwards and onto his backside, and the Cloak flew off.

"_POTTER?_"

He reflexively flung up his hands to guard against a punch, but Lily did not swing at him, nor was she planning to—she liked to think she was more mature than that at this point, and she was also a little preoccupied with wondering how on earth James Potter had just appeared out of thin air.

"Hi Evans," he said meekly, lowering his arms. "Er—you definitely didn't see that."

Lily's mouth was open.

"I definitely didn't see you at all—_oh_! No, no! I won't—I _can't_ turn you in when I don't even know what it—what _is_ that?"

It took James a second to realize what the question even was, and then he cast an almost convincingly innocently gaze at the cloak—(it was on the floor next to him)—as though he'd merely picked it up some place.

"Oh this? It's nothing—just a, er, magic cloak."

"You were _invisible_," she said. She came closer and knelt down, and James, figuring it was too late anyway, held it out for her to see.

"Er, yeah. That'd—that'd be a little obvious. Can you just not tell anyone I have this?"

"I expect this is how you do it?" she asked. She rubbed the watery smooth material in her hand.

"Do what?"

"When you idiots go out at night—don't give me that look, practically all of Gryffindor House knows it! I'm just saying that _this_ must be how you don't get caught."

"And here I was, thinking that we had kept it a secret all this time," James sighed. Lily certainly seemed to have a knack for discovering things that the Marauders would have preferred to have kept to themselves. It was not as if she couldn't be trusted, however—it was just that sometimes James felt as if there was some sort of bizarre force in the universe that kept pushing her into his life. Not that he minded, of course. After all, it _was_ Lily Evans.

"Bloody hell, you were _really_ invisible too—you're bleeding, you know," Lily pointed out to him, and James blinked at her. He then realized that blood was dribbling from his forehead.

"Does it hurt?"

"Er, you nailed me in the head with a book. What do you think?"

"Shut up," she snapped, and then, giving him an unnecessary hard tap on the head with her wand, she said "_Episkey!" _and the wound healed itself.

"Thanks," murmured James, "but you didn't need to do that."

She seemed to realize the same thing a moment later, and she flushed a deep red.

"Maybe you don't hate my very organs after all," James said, quietly. Did he dare hope that this was a sign that Lily Evans had changed her mind about him?

"I only did it because you having a scar on your forehead would look awfully stupid, Potter," she explained at once, and thrusted the Cloak back at him.

"I guess so," James replied, and got back to his feet.

Lily quickly turned away to gather up her library books. One of them was drenched in ink, and she cringed at the thought of Madam Pince's expression when she would have to return it, even if she managed to wipe most of it off.

"Er—let me help you with that. It's partly my fault."

"No thanks," Lily replied, stiffly. She finished picking up a few ruined bits of parchment, and realized that her homework was now so covered in stains that it was barely legible. She would have to rewrite it.

"No, really. A spell for a spell, you know? _Evanesco!_"

The ink instantly erased itself from her robes, books, and parchment. Unfortunately, the spell had not discriminated between ink blotches and handwriting, and so Lily's homework had turned completely blank, and copying from her ruined version instantly became impossible.

"_Thanks_," she said icily.

"_Bugger!" _James cursed. "I-I'm sorry! I really didn't mean—"

"Yeah, whatever. Leave me alone, you've just given me an extra hour of work to do—"

"I could help! I already did mine—"

"I don't need any more of _your_ help."

Lily began to leave, and James could have kicked himself. He'd been honestly, madly in love with this girl for a long time, and regardless of what he did, he only ever seemed to make things worse. He wished that once, just once, he could say and do things right—

"I really do fancy you, you know," he called after her, hopelessly.

"I was aware," Lily Evans answered, and disappeared around the corner.

--

"Murder me, Sirius."

"Sure thing, mate."

Sirius cracked his knuckles.

"No, I'm pretty sure he didn't mean that literally," Remus said, yet again from behind a book.

"I lack the will to live," James grumbled into his pillow. "I am a useless, socially inept pillock. I will never be worthy of a companion, and I will die completely alone, never having dated a girl and without even getting to kiss one…"

"Don't be stupid," Remus interjected. "You won't die alone. You've got _us_, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," James said sarcastically, shooting them all with a look. "And which one of you will be volunteering to go on a pity date with me?"

"It's honestly not as bad as you think," Peter told him, trying to be helpful. "Lots of girls think you're alright, Prongs."

"'_Alright_,'" James repeated, and his very tone sent waves of depression through the air. "They think I'm 'alright' do they? I'm starting to think the only female who thinks I'm 'alright' is my mum."

"Prongs, you are such a prat," said Sirius, who had reluctantly sat back down on his own four-poster bed again. "You're just too obsessed with Evans to notice the number of girls who'd give up their limbs to go out with your pathetic arse—well, you don't have as many as I do," he added fairly, "but you've got a fair number."

"_You've_ never dated a girl either," Peter said, frowning. "You snog a new one every chance you get and yet you don't even have a girlfriend."

"Why be pinned down by one," Sirius asked, almost with alarm, "when you can have a harem?"

"You just got your speaking privileges revoked," James groaned, and chucked a pillow at him.

Sirius looked like he wanted to say something in response, but then clamped his mouth shut and glared at Remus as though waiting. Remus caught on—were they honestly still acting like this as sixth years?—and sighed, "and I'm reinstating them."

"Thank you, Moony. In any event, I think it's that attitude of yours that needs fixing, mate. If you don't stop thinking that you'll never get a girl, well, then I don't deny that you're going to end up dying in a gutter somewhere, face down in a puddle of your own vomit—"

"Oh, thanks."

"But maybe all you need is to be a little more forceful about it. If you're not going to give up on Evans, then go find her and tell her you're taking her on a date whether she likes it or not. Pay her, if you have to."

"All the Galleons in the world wouldn't buy me a date with Lily Evans," James grunted.

"But would you spend all the Galleons in the world on her?" Remus asked abruptly.

"Well yeah," James answered, looking a bit confused. "Sure I would, if only that'd work—"

"Good answer," Remus said grimly. "Because if you're honestly this hopeless, I think I could convince her to go out with you."

"Yeah!" exclaimed Peter. "She'd listen to him, I bet!"

"Oh God," James whispered, looking upward. "Would she? I mean—would you _really_ do that for me, Moony?"

"I'll try my best, at least."

"You're a good man, Moony," Sirius said, and James smiled and had the color drain out of his face at the same time. "Why didn't we ever try this before?"

"Because we were never this desperate?" Peter suggested.

"That's true," agreed Sirius, and then he looked at James, excitedly. "You think you can do it?"

It wasn't clear whom he was addressing, so Remus said "yes," just as James glumly answered "no," and Sirius' face fell.

"_What?_ Moony's gonna help you and you still won't—?"

"It's not that I won't," he said, dismally, "It's just that I don't think I _can_. What if I cock things up like I always do? This is going to be my one and only chance…"

"But I thought you really wanted to go out with her!"

"I do! I just—I just don't…"

"You need a little moral support, maybe," Remus offered.

"I don't just need moral support. I need a bloody _miracle_."

"Fine, we'll make you up a nice Felix Felicis. That'll be your miracle. Now grow a pair and tell us you'll go out with Evans!"

"No, I honestly—" James whined, "I _really_ don't think this will work! Moony, I appreciate that you're making the offer, but you know that she'll probably turn me down regardless of what you say. And even in the best-case scenario, I just know I'm going to make an arse out of myself—I mean, honestly, what could I even say to her? '_Hi Evans, I know you despise my very existence, but did you know that your eyes are like sparkling emeralds?_' God, if I were her, I'd slap me right then and there, I can already feel it hurting—"

"I'd slap you too for a lame line like that," Sirius told him.

"You've tried really hard to stop doing the things you know she doesn't like, though," Remus mused. "I'm sorry mate, but you've definitely been a bit of a tit in the past—"

"A prick, even," Sirius humbly suggested.

"I wouldn't be talking, Sirius. Look, basically all I'm saying is that I think you may still irritate Lily a bit, but I don't think she _hates_ you."

"She does," James sighed. "Anyone could tell that she hates me. Christ, I can't do it. Moony, don't ask her for me. It'll only end in disaster. I'll just have to live with my pain—"

"So in other words," Sirius said at once, "You're chicken."

"I'm not," grumbled James, "I—"

But Sirius leaned forward, narrowed his eyes, and said, "_Chiiiiicken._"

"Shut up!"

"Ignore him," Remus tried, but Sirius had folded his arms up at his sides and was flapping them while making clucking noises.

"_I SAID SHUT UP!_" James roared, and he flung himself off his bed. "I AM _GOING_ ON THAT _DATE_!"

"Good," said Sirius, instantly dropping the act and looking very pleased with himself. "Good to see you've made up your mind."

"I cannot believe I just fell for that," said James.

"I can," Peter said distantly.

"Right then, I'm off to make James' dreams come true," Remus announced, and James looked both apprehensive and faintly annoyed as he left the dormitory and whispered a prayer under his breath.

--

--

AN: Sorry, I lost internet. :( At the library right now. I can't make any guarantees on when I can update again but I'll try to do so soon.

To answer a question, I assume that Lupin must have only been able to find a bit of temporary work here and there, and only from employers that didn't ask many questions. Also, Rowling said that James helped Lupin with his finances when he was still alive. (It's all very sad, I know.) On another note, I thought a lot of characters that Rowling killed in the final book deserved better, but personally, I agreed with her decision to kill Sirius. I'll talk more about him in another chapter.

So let's talk about James, shall we? I think he received surprisingly little characterization over the course of the Harry Potter books, but then again, he was dead before the series got its start, and to be blatantly honest, he lacked any major significance to the plot, other than to be Snape's rival, and to bring the living Marauders into the picture. I think that even though the most detailed example of James' character was the one that we saw in "Snape's Worst Memory," I'm sure that Sirius and Lupin were right in saying that he grew out of being a "berk" and that Snape was a "special case" as far as the abuse went (and that he wasn't _always_ like that). When coming up with his personality, first I imagined what a young Sirius would have been like, (because I had more to go on, but more on him in a later chapter!) and then created James to have a somewhat similar in personality, so that they could be significantly different and yet you could see why they got along so well too. Also, I assume that your Animagus form reflects who you are, sort of like a Patronus does, so I imagined that he would also be somewhat collected, rational, and also proud.

I've had him throwing these things out the window when it comes to Lily though! (Haha.) Not only do I think it's more entertaining that way, but I bet that while he acted cool about liking her in public, he was really crazy about her on the inside. My theme with him was "love/friendship conquers all." :)


	30. Year 6, Fortune: Victory, Sort of

**!NOTICE! **I went back and added a **side story **(Chapter 26)! If you still haven't read it yet, go read it, or else the next few updates will probably confuse you. Thanks!

**

* * *

**

**II. Victory, Sort of**

The rumor that Lily Evans had given in spread like wildfire through the student body, and it was only then that Remus realized just how much of a joke James' advances on Lily had become to the entire school.

"Oh God," said James, after the fourth person had come up to him at breakfast, laughing and shaking his head before sympathetically patting him on the back. "This confirms it. I'm a dead man. I am _doomed_."

"You'll be fine," Remus told him patiently. "We've been trying to coach you, and you're doing really well with it."

"What if I forget it all?" James asked, clenching his hands around his tea. He stared down the table, where Lily had seated herself on purpose, in order to avoid his gaze. "What if I take one look at her and go completely brain dead and—_just die right there?_"

Remus stared at him. Severus Snape was staring at him too, from the Slytherin table, but no one noticed.

"You won't _die._"

"It could happen!"

Sirius delicately buttered himself a crumpet and then stuffed half of it into his mouth.

"Waff's wiff hew?" he said, spraying bits across the table. He swallowed. "I could have sworn you said to me last night 'yes Sirius Black, of course I'm not a complete plonker, I do feel as if I can do this now, thanks to your marvelous help.' I drilled you for an _hour_, Prongs. I drilled you with all the girl knowledge I have to offer. You _told me_ you got it."

But now James wasn't looking too certain of himself.

"Do you remember _any_ of what I said?" asked Sirius, exasperated.

"Er," James said, shaking a little, "er, n-no rude jokes…"

"That's just one out of five. No talk of Marauders or pranks or dungbombs or bodily functions either."

"Right. And—pay for her meal, and… oh, and hold doors open and pull out her chair—"

"Prongs, this is the nineteen-seventies, not the eighteen-seventies. You must also remember that we are talking about Evans. Do all that and you'll risk decapitation."

"Oh. No, you're right. Okay, well, I need to er, mind my manners?"

"And don't act pathetic, or like a twit."

"Yeah, that too. Also… oh, and don't stare at her tits—"

"And be yourself," Sirius finished.

"Be myself," James repeated, and nodded his head. Then he shook it. "God, who am I fooling? I've never acted normal within a hundred meters of Evans—"

"You've got clear till next weekend to work on it, too," Peter reminded him helpfully. "You'll get better with practice."

James watched as Frank Longbottom shot him a look of intense pity from the Hufflepuff table—his girlfriend, Alice, was obviously whispering the latest gossip into his ear.

"Alright tea!" James said, suddenly with resolve. He drained his cup with one long drink and slammed it on the table. "Tell me I'm not gonna screw up!"

Remus leaned in. While none of them had ever taken Divination, the soggy tealeaves at the bottom were clearly saying something like, _haha, good luck with that._

--

All five of them met up in the entrance hall on the morning of the next Hogsmeade visit.

"Funny," said Lily, scanning the group. "I thought I agreed to _one_ date."

"Oh no, we're just here for to be Jamie's moral support," Sirius explained, sounding rather gleeful as he clapped James on the back. James' face didn't have any color in it, but he was otherwise putting on a good show of looking brave.

"Hi Evans," James said, a little too late. "Er, if we could just go—I was thinking we could—"

"We're not going to Madam Puddifoots," Lily warned.

"—thinking we could go to the Three Broomsticks," James finished, loudly. "Er, just for butterbeer. If that sounds alright with you."

Lily stared at him strangely.

"Er. Sure."

Her expression suggested that she was having a hard time admitting that going for butterbeer didn't sound like a horrible idea at all.

"Well you kids have fun then!" piped Sirius, and he bounced forward to shove James closer to Lily. "Be safe! Enjoy yourselves!"

"Yeah, have fun," Remus said, giving Lily a meaningful look, and Peter nodded.

Lily sighed, but then, looking fully resigned, took James' hand and led him along with the other students. Sirius gave James an overly enthusiastic wave, like a mother sending her son off to his first day of school.

"It'll be alright sweetie!" he shouted after him, and James gave him the finger behind Lily's head before they'd gone out of sight.

"Well, they're gone," Remus said, to fill the silence.

"Yup," agreed Sirius. Peter grinned at him as he added, "we better get going too, then."

Remus had nearly had the foolishness to think they were just going back to the Gryffindor common room. He rounded on Sirius.

"I thought you said you were bored with Hogsmeade visits," he said, tersely.

"And miss my chance to see history being made?"

Sirius and Peter were now wearing identical smirks.

"You aren't—oh god, you _are_," said Remus, staring. "No, Sirius. _No_. You are _not_ going to _spy _on them! If they catch you—Sirius, spying is _illegal_—"

"Maybe for Sirius Black it is," said Sirius, wiggling his eyebrows, "but is it illegal… for a _dog?_"

"You need to be put on a leash," Remus groaned. "You need obedience school. You belong in the _pound_."

"And I'm going too," Peter chimed in. "Don't want to miss this for the world."

"You—_fine_," said Remus. "You two go follow them and ruin everything for James. _I'm_ staying."

Remus stomped away to the staircase and had made it to the first step before pausing.

"I need to come," he snapped. "To supervise you _children_."

"Yes, Mother," said Sirius, beaming.

--

The Invisibility Cloak wasn't exactly large enough for three grown boys, and only barely for two, which lead to a rather awkward shuffling as Remus scrambled into the booth in the corner and Sirius practically had to sit on his lap. Wormtail had made himself at home in Sirius' pocket, and it was all rather uncomfortable, but it did allow them to hear what was going on two tables away.

It was good that Lily kept coming up with topics for discussion, because James seemed incapable of having an original thought. They talked at length about a lot of things, and even though the conversation was rather uneventful, Lily hadn't thrown her butterbeer on James yet, so he was doing fairly well and managed not to be awkward and helpless.

"Well, at least she's giving me a fair shot," Remus whispered to himself.

"What's that?"

Sirius actually seemed rather disappointed by how boringly well things were going, so kept finding something annoying to do, like tapping his foot or sticking his finger in Remus' ear to see what he'd do, just to keep himself entertained. However, things finally took a turn for the worse when he heard his own name being brought up.

"What were you and Black doing on Monday?" Lily was asking.

James looked panicked. He knew he wasn't supposed to be talking about Marauder-anything, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't just ignore the question.

"Me and wossface? We weren't doing anything—"

"Black was wearing a sign around his neck all day," Lily pointed out. "It said 'One Galleon' on it."

"We were just—just trying to raise a bit of money," James stammered. "For a project we've been doing."

Of course, what he didn't want to say was that they were raising the money for some very expensive Everlasting Ink they'd be needing.

"What were you charging a galleon for?"

"Er," said James. "Well—a galleon for the chance to snog Sirius, actually."

Lily had gotten to the bottom of her butterbeer, but she kept drinking anyway.

_Sluuuurp._

"Didn't fancy having a bake sale?"

"No, not really," James said, timidly. "But… but I mean, what else were we supposed to do? Have people pay to see me try to brush my hair? To see Mo—Remus be way too enthusiastic about his homework?"

For perhaps the first time in her life, Lily gave him a bit of a smile.

"I suppose you had a lot of customers, then."

"Er—guess so. If Bertha Jorkins hadn't graduated last year we would have been raking in galleons, but we still made off fairly well. I mean, there are lots of girls that cream themselves whenever—"

"That's enough information, thanks," Lily told him, dryly.

"I'm going to throw my shoe at him," Sirius quietly announced, with Wormtail wiggling his agreement in his pocket, only to receive a kick in the shins—Remus didn't think it would be very prudent to allow Sirius to send one of his All Stars flying from the air, because as much as James probably needed a shoe to the face, that would give them away.

"_Ow_, fuck—"

Lily glanced over to their table, and Remus quickly slapped a hand over Sirius' mouth.

"What?" asked James.

"Nothing, I think," Lily answered, turning back around. "Either that or the wind. Foul-mouthed wind."

Remus gave Sirius a look, who returned it with a glare.

"Gerroff," he grumbled through his hand.

"You promised to keep your mouth shut," Remus hissed.

Sirius' tongue darted from his mouth and licked Remus' palm. Disgusting, yes, but the yelp and Remus' hand recoiling must have been completely worth it.

"_Ughh!_"

James interrupted his conversation with Lily to shift in his chair.

"I think I heard something too," he said. He stood up, glaring into the corner.

Oh God. He _knew_.

Remus let an obscene word he'd never used before fall out of his mouth as Wormtail made a shrill noise and dived to the bottom of his pocket. James took a step forward and Sirius tried to shove Remus out of the booth, but then—

"Professor Dumbledore!" squealed Lily.

Remus wheeled around to see that Lily had, in fact, not been shouting nonsense—Dumbledore really was standing there, looking just as surprised as she was, and James dropped back into his seat with his mouth open.

"Hullo," James said, stupidly.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Hello, Miss Evans. Enjoying yourselves?"

"PROFFESSOR IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE," Lily fairly shrieked, but Dumbledore waved his hand, looking merry.

"I merely assume you two are aiming to strengthen your bond as fellow Gryffindor students. Yes, yes, very mature… good to see you've gotten over your differences… "

James just looked dumbstruck, and Lily gazed longingly at his half finished butterbeer, perhaps contemplating if there was enough left over to drown herself in it.

"Well, I'll just be off, there's a meeting upstairs that I need to attend. I'm afraid that we have business that needs to be discussed in a more private place than in the bar…"

Dumbledore turned his head and gave the corner booth an enormously conspicuous wink. He then turned back to James and Lily, speaking for a little longer, and Remus understood what he was doing at once—buying them time.

He nodded to Sirius, and they bolted from their seats.

--

The three dateless Marauders, deciding not to chance their luck again, were in the common room and waiting for James to come back.

"That was awful," Peter laughed for the third time. "That was so _close_."

"Yeah, and it's Moony's fault that we nearly got ourselves caught," said Sirius, pointing.

"_My_ fault? And just who decided to lick my hand at the worst possible moment?"

"You're just lucky Dumbledore came along when he did!"

"We all are," said Remus. "He saved our arses."

He had known all along, of course, that Professor Dumbledore was a great man. He'd let him come to Hogwarts after all, when everyone else had been against it, and he'd allowed five people to learn his secret to date, and still hadn't thrown him out. But Dumbledore had never spoken to him more than was necessary, never acknowledged him with more than a nod and a wink, never given him a sign that he may regard him differently from another student. He never would have guessed that he would have done something like that for him and his friends.

But perhaps that had been precisely the point. Perhaps it was all one of his crazy schemes to keep Remus from feeling like the ugly duckling, like the odd man out, and yes, Remus supposed, it had worked.

"But that doesn't make you any less of an idiot," added Remus, grudgingly.

Sirius threw up his hands and said something that sounded vaguely like he was blaming it on inbreeding before Peter interrupted him by shouting: "Shut up! Here he is!"

James stumbled out of the portrait hole, looked windswept and either drunk—_but it isn't even the weekend_, Remus thought—or just confused about where he was. He ambled in, came within falling distance of the sofa, and collapsed on it.

"Er," said Sirius. "So? How'd it go?"

"Ask nothing," James said into the cushions. "I am in too much euphoria to form coherent sentences."

"You just did though," Peter noted. "It went well then, I take it?"

"Finest four hours of my _life_," James said, and when he resurfaced from the upholstery, he was smiling so broadly he might have gotten his mouth stuck. "_Good Lord_. I thought—thought, you know, we'd have a few butterbeers and it'd be over. But we went for a _walk_. We went _window-shopping_. I made her laugh at least five times and she didn't knee me in the bollocks even _once_."

"It's a Christmas miracle," Sirius gasped.

"So you think Lily enjoyed herself?" asked Remus, his tone a little too eager.

"Hell if I know—but I she was smiling a lot, so I think—yeah! I think she did! I could just die right now and not have a single regret…"

He sunk into a boneless heap on the floor and looked dreamy for a while.

"Oh, just look at how happy he is, all thanks to Moony," Sirius cried, and threw his arms around James' neck.

"Moony, _thank you_," James said at once, knocking his mate off of him and scrambling across the ground to come grovel at Remus' feet. "If you hadn't—if I'd tried to—_thank you._"

"No problem."

"Oh, oh, oh, hold on, Lily gave me some gold to give to you at the end…" James fumbled around in his pocket and withdrew a handful of gold that he dropped into his hand. Remus raised his eyebrows. "Do you have any idea what—?"

"No," said Remus, but he was smiling. "I haven't the faintest. She must have owed me for something."

James seemed satisfied with this answer, so he had turned around.

"Okay," he said dramatically, wagging his eyebrows, "who wants to hear all the details?"

--

"_Oh for the love of—not you too! No Remus, I'm not going out with him!"_

"_But—he knows he hasn't got a chance, so he asked me instead, and I thought—thought—"_

_Remus swallowed. This must have been what James felt like all the time—completely tongue-tied in front of Lily Evans and being shot down without even getting a fair chance—but at least he wasn't feeling the emotional damage from it._

"_I already told him you'd say yes to me," Remus said, pathetically. "If you say no now, you'd—well, he's going to be heartbroken if you don't—"_

"_But he's_ Potter! _He hasn't got a heart!"_

_Remus stared._

"That's _rather cruel of you," he said, coolly. "He's not_ that _bad._ I _obviously think he's a nice enough bloke."_

_This seemed to strike Lily as true, because her expression changed._

"_You are completely unfair. Potter's been bugging about it two_ _years and_ you're _giving_ me _a guilt trip?"_

"_One date," Remus said. "That's all I'm asking. Do it for me at least, will you? I don't want to see him looking so pathetic either."_

_Lily's eyes narrowed, and then she turned around and walked off. He sighed, thinking it was all over, a lost cause, until he realized that she'd only gone to find her bag, and had produced from it a small coin purse._

"_Look," she offered. "I have… five galleons in here. What will you wager?"_

"Wager? _I don't—"_

"_I'm betting that if I go on a date with Potter, I will have the worst time of my life," said Lily, sourly, "and it will be so miserable I will want to smash my head into a wall. If that happens, you have to give me five galleons. That way, even if I do hate myself for going out with him, I'll at least get paid for it."_

"_And what if you don't?"_

"_Well—if I don't have the worst time of my life, I give you five galleons. And seeing as that's going to take nothing short of a miracle, I'd say the odds are in my favor."_

_Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose so hard he was in danger of having it fall off._

"_Okay. So you're saying I have to wager five galleons to get you to do it?"_

"_Those are my terms, yes."_

"_I never took you to be much of a gambler," said Remus, weakly, but he fished around in his robes and produced four galleons and enough sickles to make up for the fifth. "Okay, I'm betting than you_ won't _want to smash your head into a wall by the end."_

"_Alright," said Lily, taking his gold from him. "Go tell Potter I'm accepting. Just don't tell him I'm only agreeing because we bet on it."_

"_No, wasn't going to."_

_Remus turned round and traipsed back up the staircase—he really hoped that James was going to be able to pull off that miracle, because that had been the rest of his spending money until the end of term._

--

--

AN: Hi. Back from outerspace.  
Some excuses: Illness, moving in with dad, homework, a paper, tests and THIS CHAPTER WAS HARD TO WRITE. (First dates are awkward. First dates that get forced on you are awkwarder.) But here it is, longest chapter to date, and I've got everything past this written, so that means one update every day till the end! I got a 100% on the English paper, by the by. :3


	31. Year 6, Fortune: Sirius' Misery

**III. Sirius' Misery  
**

"_Moony,_" moaned Sirius, "My hand—it's cramping—I can't go on—it'll fall off if you make me do any more—"

He waggled his right hand in front of Remus' face, as though this would convince him that it was in a wretched state.

"You've been writing for fifteen minutes," Remus said, stone-faced and shifting the Invisibility Cloak a little around their shoulders. "Oh wait, sorry, my mistake, you've been having the map write _itself_ for fifteen minutes—"

"It's been fifteen _painful_ minutes!" Sirius whined. He was pouting too, which he'd always managed to pull off magnificently, even convincingly, despite regularly sporting the most rebellious clothing he could find and being the sort of boy who loved dirt and sweat and engine grease.

"Alright, fine. It's nearly my turn anyway."

Remus held out his hand, and Sirius gladly deposited the Backwards Quill onto his palm. Remus wondered how he had ever gotten through Professor McGonagall's notoriously long essays.

"You're a lifesaver," Sirius told him brightly, and he put on a show of cradling his hand as though it was severely injured.

_I'm just a push-over, really,_ Remus thought to himself, smiling, and he touched the Backwards Quill back to the stone wall through the cloak. Long, tireless babblings of the entire history of the wall flooded into his thoughts, and Sirius checked to make sure that a new line was beginning to form on their map of the third floor.

Drawing a normal, static map would have been completely useless any, so they had decided that making a quill-and-ink copy of the magic in the walls would be the easiest plan. The map—which bore the working title, 'The Marauder's Map,' at the top—was currently only a work-in-progress. It looked very primitive for now, but at least the lines, which represented the walls, could already mirror their shifting, real-life counterparts.

They had grand schemes of what they wanted the finished version to be capable of—some of the ideas were to have it fade seamlessly from a diagram of one floor to the next, to have it give instructions of how to open hidden areas, and to have little pop up tricks for avoiding trouble. Eventually, they hoped, there would also be bits of themselves in it too, like inside jokes and their best insults, and a password to keep out the unworthy. James had wanted for the final version of the map to reveal itself in the most impressive way possible too, so they were also trying to imagine what that would look like.

Unfortunately, each of these ambitious plans could only happen if they first spent their evenings sneaking out to make a record of every wall, door, and decoration in the school, and they were way behind schedule. End of term exams, grueling Quidditch practices, too much homework, girl snogging, Prefect duties, and Peter coming down with a cold all had a hand in it. But tonight, while Peter was in bed and James was out bossing around the new players on the Quidditch pitch, Remus and Sirius had put themselves to the task of getting back on track.

"Talk to me," Sirius said. "I'm getting bored here."

"What's there to talk about?"

"Are you kidding? If Prongs was here, he'd be talking my ear off—he'd be telling me about his whole day, even though we've got all the same classes—well, except for Herbology, since he finally gave up on it—"

"But I'm not James," Remus pointed out to him.

If he _was_ James, Sirius would be acting twice as rowdy and probably three times as immature, because those two fed off of each others' constant need for excitement. Remus had often suggested the words 'attention deficit disorder,' but somehow, that didn't even begin to describe the way they'd get at times.

"You're not, are you?" said Sirius, thoughtfully, as if he hadn't noticed before now. "But I'm going to make you talk whether you like it or not—you're my second best mate, so you've got to fill Prongs' shoes when he's not here."

"But I _enjoy _silence," Remus argued, but he was quietly pleased at the news of his second best mate status. "I'm also actually very boring."

Sirius gave him a grim expression.

"More or less so than Professor Binns?"

Remus considered for a moment.

"Well, less. I think."

"Well then c'mon, Moony! How about… what's your favorite color? How's Arithmacy been going for you? Any dark secrets you'd like to share? "

"Brown, fine, no," he answered, sighing.

"You _are_ boring!" Sirius informed him, looking shocked. "_Brown? _How can you like _brown?_"

"Because it's a color that goes well with everything. And I told you—if you want engaging conversation, I'm not the one to ask."

"I just don't like things so quiet," Sirius professed, and he weaved his fingers together and put his hands behind his head. It was Sirius code for _I'm bored and you are not helping_. "Especially when it's all dark like this. Doesn't it make you jumpy?"

"No, not really."

"Oh, bugger. Now I feel like a girl. You could have lied, you know, and saved my dignity."

"What dignity do you have to be saved?"

"Your insults are improving, I see, Moony Lupin," said Sirius, nodding his head. "Hey, that sounds weird. Moo-knee Loo-pin. Loop'n Moonie. Moolie Loolie. Moo-loo."

"You could call me Remus Lupin like a sane person, you know," Remus suggested.

Sirius laughed and was suddenly looking at him very fondly.

"I remember you in first year. Oh man, not only did you have those scars all over, you'd never even talk, and you wrote to your parents _constantly_, and you kept a journal, and Evans was your only friend—we stayed away because we all just figured you were bent or something."

"_What?_ God, ha ha, shut up, no they didn't—"

"Okay, well, maybe that was just _my_ theory. But c'mon, you always looked like you were going to pee yourself if I tried to be nice to you, so I just gave up."

"You scared me," Remus admitted, shrugging. He noticed that they'd ended up talking anyway. "You and James were utter berks back then, but you especially. I seem to recall you brutally attacking me the first time we made eye contact."

"When was that? Oh. Ahaha, oh yeah! I shoved you! I remember now. That was on the train. The beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Yeah, some sort of friendship in any case—_shh!_"

"Eh? What?"

Sirius stopped and glanced around.

"Listen," said Remus, quietly. "I hear voices…"

"The ones in your head?" Sirius asked, insulting by reflex, but when he strained himself to hear, he could tell that there were certainly people talking, though the sound was muffled and quiet.

"Useless—complete scum—the Dark Lord won't be happy…"

"Might as well be a bunch of fucking Mudbloods, the whole lot of them, for all they're worth…"

Sirius suddenly resembled a hunting dog. He stood at attention, his nose pointed toward the source of the noise—a moldy tapestry that they knew covered the entrance to a secret passage. No one in Gryffindor house took kindly to hearing the word 'Mudblood,' but Sirius took serious offense to it, probably more offense than the Muggle-borns themselves.

"Someone out of bed?" whispered Remus.

"Sounds like it," Sirius whispered back, and he pulled off the cloak and gave it to Remus to stuff into his bag. Sirius swallowed and seized the edge of the tapestry, then flung it to the side.

"Oh Christ," muttered Remus, and the conversation going on in the passageway immediately died away. They had apparently stumbled upon a pow-wow of Slytherin students, all of them, if the Hogwarts student body were to ever vote on such a thing, contenders for Most Likely to Become a Death Eater. Remus generally tried to avoid Slytherin students at all costs, but he did know names—Rosier, Wilkes, Avery and Lestrange were there, Severus Snape too, and Narcissa Black, Andromeda's younger sister, was standing next to him. Remus tried to imagine Lily Evans with them, who had once tagged along with Snape to be nice, and suddenly his stomach was churning.

"What a pleasant surprise," said Wilkes. His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"We were just leaving," Remus assured them, feeling the courage that had gotten him into Gryffindor house draining straight out of him. _I could out-run any of them,_ he thought, desperately, and was just about to do so when Sirius grabbed him by the collar and forced him to stay.

"No we weren't," Sirius said firmly, and he let go of Remus when he saw that he'd frozen to the spot. "We just came to join the fun. Having a late night party, are we?"

"And what if we were?" This voice was Snape's—Remus could recognize his drawl from a mile away.

"Then McGonagall will be pleased to hear about it, _Snivellus,_" Sirius answered, and he folded his arms. "You lot had better clear off before I turn you all in for being out of bed at night."

"_You're_ out of bed too," Narcissa pointed out.

"So? I bet she wouldn't care about me at all because I know she'd _love_ to get all of _you_ in trouble for having little Death Eater meetings after dark—"

"That may be true, but you're forgetting that there's seven of us," said Avery, casting around his gaze to make sure he had the number right, "and two of you. I'd think seven curses at once would be enough to kill a person, wouldn't you?"

Sirius just gritted his teeth.

"What are _you_ doing there with that bit of parchment, anyway?" Avery rounded on Remus, who still held the map in his hand. "Taking notes, were you, Half-blood? Spying?"

"The parchment doesn't have anything to do with anything," Remus said, and hastily stuffed it into his bag. He hadn't been aware that Half-blood was now an insult, but it was to the Slytherins, apparently.

"Give that here, Half-blood!" demanded Rosier, and he'd lunged at Remus' bag all at once. Remus jumped backwards and out of the way, but Rosier wasn't going to be stopped by this alone, so Remus braced himself for the moment when his bag would be ripped open and the map and Invisibility Cloak would could tumbling out—but Sirius saved him by suddenly whipping out his wand.

"Don't you get near him!" he spat, but the Slytherins, who had been holding their wands at their sides the entire time, were faster, and it was suddenly one wand against many.

"Don't," hissed Remus.

"Why shouldn't I?" Sirius growled. He seemed to be unbothered by the threat of so many wands pointing directly at his chest.

"Because you're going to get us _killed_," groaned Remus.

"I'm not afraid of them," he huffed. "I'm not scared—"

"Don't try to act the big man, Black," sneered Lestrange, who had been silent until now. "We all know—we've heard—"

Sirius, though looking momentarily confused, tightened the grip on his wand.

"What are you on about?"

"Your brother," said Snape. "He's been telling us very amusing stories about your home life… he tells us you ran out last summer, is that true?"

"You're bloody right I did," Sirius answered, chest swelling a bit, but then his brow furrowed. "And what's my brother got to do with—"

The Slytherin gang let out gleeful snickers as someone in the far back was shoved forward and out of hiding. The person that stumbled to the front was Regulus Black.

"_No,_" Sirius hissed.

He gaped at Regulus, whose identical silver eyes stared right back. Regulus, a little taller than he'd been last year, resembled Sirius more than he ever had in the past—and yet it was clear, from the people that Regulus was with, that the two brothers' ideologies couldn't be more opposite.

"What are you _doing?_" Sirius asked him helplessly. "You're one of You-Know-Who's—?"

"I'm doing what's right," Regulus answered, stiffly. "What you should be doing, if you were decent."

"_Reg_," groaned Sirius.

"Regulus tells us you were _scared_," simpered Narcissa. "You were scared of living in your own home, hard as your poor Father and Mother tried to make you see reality—gave you all you wanted—"

"He's lying," Sirius said, brushing it off with ease. "Reg's always been a little liar, haven't you, Reg? Go on, tell them another good one."

"You know I'm not lying," Regulus said quietly.

Sirius looked to Remus now, seeking some sort of support, and Remus tried to make himself look properly outraged for his benefit.

"Reg," Sirius warned, snapping his gaze back to his brother, "do us all a favor and shut the _fuck_ up."

"You don't have any right to tell me what to do," Regulus said, a little louder, and Sirius glared at him, as though trying to intimidate him into shutting his mouth, but it wasn't working. Regulus' arms quivered slightly, but his nostrils flared. "You chose to walk out on our family. You aren't a brother to me anymore."

"That's fine by me," Sirius snapped.

"Oh, sure," Regulus continued, "go ahead and act tough in front of your Half-blood friend, but I know you'd always run away to that Potter's all summer long just because you couldn't take it—you were always scared, scared of our parents, scared of our ways—"

"SHUT YOUR_ MOUTH!_" Sirius roared.

"I'm not going to!" Regulus shouted back, and there was excitement in his eyes, like he couldn't believe how good it felt to speak his mind. "You're a coward! You're a coward and a blood-traitor! You'd look right ill whenever Mum started up with her screaming! You'd flinch every time you saw Daddy's cane out, 'cause of all the times he's beaten you for giving him cheek!"

Remus looked nervously at Sirius, who had blanched to pale white as the Slytherins began to chuckle and snort at him.

"And then you'd scream something terrible at night, always having nightmares, you poor thing—"

A twisted smile formed on his lips. Regulus looked from side to side, to make sure everyone was listening, and then, dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper, he said:

"Kreacher tells me you'd wet your bed, is that true too?"

"_YOU_ _LIAR!_"

Sirius went from ghostly white to extremely red in the matter of seconds, and now it was Remus' turn to grab on to Sirius, because he seemed about ready to throw away his wand and punch Regulus' face out the back of his skull. "FUCK YOU! I—NEVER—_EVER_—SHUT _UP_ YOU LYING PIECE OF—MOONY, GET _OFF!_"

Regardless of whether it was a lie or not, the other Slytherins were now cackling and shrieking with laughter, and Regulus was looking twice as haughty as usual. Sirius cursed furiously under his breath and fought hard to free himself from Remus' grip, but Remus refused to let go.

"_Fine!_" Sirius yelled. "Fine, believe what he says! But I can tell you—I can tell you about Regulus—he used to—he—"

But the Slytherins were clearly disinterested. They still shook with laughter as they began to move away, and Regulus gave Sirius one last look of superiority and swept off behind them, lost forever to Voldemort's side.

For Remus and Sirius, there was a long silence.

"Moony," Sirius seethed at last, "_get off._"

Remus slackened his grip immediately and pulled away, and Sirius, still red in the face, slammed his boot into the wall.

So this was what Sirius looked like when he was angry.

"I was _nice_ to that twat once!" he yelled. "He used to be my only friend! When he was little—I let him slobber on my teddy bears! I taught him how to tie his shoes! _We used to take baths together, Moony!_"

"That's—" Remus tried. _That's kind of cute, actually,_ he had wanted to say, but decided it would be best to keep that thought to himself.

"We need—we need—a _fucking_ way—" Sirius huffed, "to tell who's round a corner on the map—something that says where people are so I don't ever—have to see that little shit again—"

"I agree," said Remus. But then he ventured, "Sirius? Er—how much of that was true?"

Sirius turned on him, his face livid.

"_Shut up!_ I never—_never_ wet the fucking—"

"Not that," Remus said quickly. "He was lying about that one. But I mean… the rest. Was he lying about the rest too?"

Sirius took a moment to regain his composure, evidently realizing that Remus wasn't anyone to take his anger out on, and then ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"He exaggerated," he muttered quickly. "Sometimes, yeah, but he was mostly—it was a long time ago—_sometimes_, once or twice—"

"Okay," said Remus, with an air of finality. He got the feeling that Sirius wasn't being truthful, but he wasn't going to press the issue any further.

Remus J. Lupin had always felt a twinge of jealously toward Sirius Black, who was handsome and charismatic without trying, and also comfortable in his own skin and always surrounded by others. But all this time, he'd been so caught up in worrying about James that he'd never truly recognized that Sirius had been struggling too—and in his own opinion, that made him a pretty lousy second best mate.

--

--

AN: This chapter is even longer! ARGH! Also, please note the following facts.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Scholastic's official word count: **76944**  
The World Shall Brightly Burn, FF's official word count, as of this update: **79169**

Hoo nelly. ;D

If you haven't guessed already, this final year is more or less here to sort out the loose threads for James and Sirius. This chapter is really pretty dark, but unlike many of the chapters I've written, it did exactly what I wanted to accomplish, and I love the way this one turned out.

While Lupin is my favorite character, Sirius is my second favorite. He was great. The only regret I ever had about his character was that he wasn't more affectionate toward Harry. Sirius would give him advice, and he obviously cared about Harry, but he never really tried to step in and actually take the role of a parent (which one would think he'd be obligated to do, considering he was his godfather) that Harry desperately needed. But I think the fact that Sirius was always emotionally distant with Harry showed what Rowling was trying to get at all along—that Sirius always saw Harry as just an extension of James, and he was trying to get his friend back through him. This is really utterly depressing to think about, and that aspect of Sirius, the part that's stuck in the past and refuses to grow up and accept reality, really sort of makes me want to cry. His character is just as tragic as Lupin's in some ways, I think, but let's discuss that later.

For those of you who know way more about the Black family than the average human, you will have noticed that I made a mistake earlier. Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa are all sisters, and they go from the eldest to the youngest in that order. For the first year sections, I messed this up. I made Andromeda the oldest sister, and I realized this while doing the research for this chapter. Oh well, just another thing to go back and fix. (I believe there's only one line where Sirius implies that Bella was younger than Andromeda, though…) Btw I'm purposefully not mentioning that Andromeda would have had Tonks by now, because at this point it would be completely awkward to know that she'd currently only be—MUST. HAVE. SELF. CONTROL.


	32. Year 6, Fortune: Joie de Vivre

**IV. Joie De Vivre**

Mr. Lupin was wearing his reading glasses and staring at an official-looking letter from the Ministry—from the werewolf register, no doubt—and from the crease in his brow, it had nothing good to say. Mrs. Lupin had gone upstairs an hour ago, complaining of a headache, and hadn't come back down since.

"More and more regulation all the time," Mr. Lupin muttered. "All because of that Greyback—discrimination, that is."

It had been a miserable Christmas so far. It was a good thing he'd be off to the Potters' tomorrow, because Remus wasn't sure how much more silence he could take.

The doorbell rang, and Mr. Lupin didn't seem to notice the sound at all.

"I'll get it," Remus volunteered, uneasily.

"Yes, thank you, Remus."

Remus went into the entryway and he was just wondering who on earth would come calling during a snowstorm when he pulled open the front door.

Oh. Sirius Black would.

"Hi Moony," he said, looking around his shoulder with interest. "So this is your house! It looks nice. Ho, is that a _television?_"

Remus had half a mind to slam the door in his face. He settled instead for closing it as much as possible and then shooting a suspicious gaze down the hall before turning back.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Remus hissed.

"Came to get you early," said Sirius, huffing out little white clouds of breath. He gestured behind him with a gloved hand, and his motorbike cheerfully blinked its headlight. "Wormy's mum brought him early—sick of him, I guess—and I needed to give her some exercise, anyway. Now, were you gonna let me in or what? It's really cold out here, you know. And hey, do I get to meet your folks?"

Remus grimaced. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin had never met the Marauders in person, and Remus was not eager to make the introductions. He'd always told his parents that his friends were the exact opposite of what they were—polite, studious, and certainly law abiding. And besides, now was not the time.

Nor would it ever be, Remus admitted to himself.

"Sirius," Remus sighed, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't, my parents—well, they wouldn't approve of your—your—"

He gestured vaguely at the longhaired hooligan in a leather jacket that stood on the doorstep. Sirius looked unperturbed.

"Don't worry, I'm really quite charming," he insisted. "They will take one look at me and say, 'who is that enchanting young lad you have there with you, Remus? Won't you let him in?'"

"Will they now."

"Yes of course. And we will make delightful conversation. I will share my accomplishments and ambitions with them. I could tell them about my new tattoo."

"_You've_ got a—?"

"I'm _kidding._ And I don't have to come in if you don't want me too, Moony. I can tell when I'm not wanted. You'll just have to live with the guilt of having me die of hypothermia. Hop on then, let's get going."

The motorbike trundled up to Sirius' side and he swung a leg over it. Sirius jerked his head toward the seat behind him.

"Bloody hell," said Remus, feeling green just from looking at it. "You want me to _ride_ that thing with you?"

Sirius was looking highly affronted.

"Sorry," Remus said, quickly. "I just—I'd rather stay on the ground—and my parents would through a fit if they—"

"Well, wouldn't want that, God forbid," said Sirius, too casually. "You go ahead and stay here and have a nice night with your family. I'll just be heading back, then."

Remus closed his eyes briefly before turning to yell down the hallway.

"Dad! The Potters've just shown up! I'm going!"

"Have fun," Mr. Lupin called back, though a little absently, Remus noted—he hadn't even asked him the usual fifty questions about where he'd be and for how long, and Remus suspected he hadn't been listening at all. But he grabbed his coat from its hook anyway, then closed the door behind him. Sirius blinked, but smiled after a moment.

"You'd better go slow," Remus said, gritting his teeth.

--

The holiday season had clearly arrived. Torrential amounts of snow blasted everywhere outside, and the inside of the Potter's home had turned extremely festive. Their house had always been marvelous and grand and warm, quite unlike Remus' own, but when he arrived for Christmas dinner, he immediately saw that the Potters had outdone themselves this year—holly and Christmas roses were wrapped about the stair banisters, icicles that didn't melt hung from every doorway, and an enormous Christmas tree with multicolored baubles and garland had been erected in the front room. It was far more decorated than Remus had ever seen it before, and he vaguely wondered why.

"Sirius Black, you are in _big_ trouble!" roared Mrs. Potter, who, after taking one look at the two boys who had come into the house with their noses raw and their lips blue, had forced them into chairs by the fire and had run to get blankets and hot chocolate.

"You look like you nearly managed to get yourselves frozen to the bike," James piped up from the floor, where he'd been playing a round of Exploding Snap with Peter. "Good job."

"Did Moony throw up?" Peter asked, curiously. "Doesn't flying make you nauseous?"

"The vomit would have frozen before it left my mouth," Remus said, shivering. "God, we were high up, too—he did it on purpose!"

Sirius looked quite pleased with himself.

"Fun though, wasn't it?"

Mrs. Potter came back, this time accompanied by Mr. Potter, who seemed irritated.

"Sirius, that was extremely irresponsible of you," he said, but Mr. Potter was the sort of man who failed to be scary at all, and the fact that he was wagging his finger at Sirius ruined any chances he had of looking firm.

"Dad, you're fighting a losing battle here if you're asking for Sirius to be responsible," James said. "Moony's the only one with a lick of sense out of all of us, you know that."

"That's right!" said Mrs. Potter, who had turned to furiously scrub the frost out of Sirius' hair with a towel. "Thank goodness you've got him here to keep my boys in line! And are you alright, Remus dear? Nothing froze and fell off, did it?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I'm all intact Mrs. Potter."

"Well thank goodness. You two get warm now, I've just got dinner started."

"Good, I'm _starving_," said Sirius, eagerly, and Mrs. Potter thumped him in the side of the head with the towel.

"I expect you are! Not saying a word, being gone all afternoon—honestly! We had no idea where you'd gone! We were worried about you! What if that awful bike of yours had bucked you off? What if you'd run headlong into a building?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," said Sirius, who tried to look forlorn, but somehow mixed this up and seemed to be inordinately happy instead.

"You ought to be apologizing to Remus," Mr. Potter said, trying—and failing—to be stern again. "You've nearly froze him to death, and you stole him from his parents on Christmas Day of all things—"

"I was having an awful Christmas," explained Remus. "I want to be here, really—"

"Oh, alright. Sirius, I ask you to just _please_ stop being an enormous idiot if you can help it, alright? And James—you go help your mother with dinner."

"But we're in the middle of our game!" protested James from the hearthrug, waving his cards. "Make Sirius go! He's the one who's in trouble!"

"We're finished, actually," Peter disagreed, grinning, and threw down his hand—four kings. The cards that James held instantly blew themselves to smithereens, and bits of playing card fluttered down like confetti. James looked like he had just had a grenade go off in his face.

"Heh heh heh," Peter laughed, evilly.

"Arse," James grunted, and spat out the corner of what looked like the ace of spades.

"James Potter, no _swearing!_"

"Yes, Mum."

--

For the last four years, Remus had been given the permission to go to the Potters' yearly Christmas party, and though Remus and Peter were both there a day sooner than planned, it seemed that the Potters had no problem with starting the celebrations early. They all went to the kitchen to help with dinner in the end, and James promised they could all stay the night, and that they'd go out to Ottery St. Catchpole in the morning once the shops had reopened and maybe do Muggle things, like go to the pictures or visit the arcade.

The Potters had had James late in their lives, so they were a bit dull, but they were very kind, very generous, and had definitely proved themselves to be the most brill parents in existence when Sirius had run away from home last summer. He'd come immediately to the Potters, thinking that he might at least stop in before heading off to who knew where, and to his great surprise—and James' delight, no doubt—Mr. and Mrs. Potter offered for him to stay with them indefinitely. And so the Potters had more or less adopted Sirius, and the four of them got on so well that it was almost as if they'd always been his family—like Sirius' Mum and Dad were just imposters, and this was where his real home was.

"Evans?" asked Mr. Potter. "Evans who?"

Remus dropped his fork.

"Pads," James said sharply.

"Merlin, you haven't said anything about her?" Sirius asked, eyes wide.

"_No,_ I—"

"James, are we talking about a _girl?_" inquired Mrs. Potter, shrilly.

"Yup, a girl's name," Sirius said happily. "Lily Evans. James likes her."

Peter was now laughing nervously, and Remus bit his lip. James glared, and if looks could kill, that would have been bad news for Sirius, because he would have been vaporized on the spot.

"Well, well, is she a looker?" asked Mr. Potter, jovially.

"DAD!" yelped James.

"Oh, James," said Mrs. Potter, voice warbling, "why didn't you ever say? Where does she live? What's her family like? We could have invited her over!"

"It's not—it's not like that— she doesn't—argh—"

"_Humungous_ crush," said Sirius, grinning.

"Just be careful," Mr. Potter said, sagely. "If you two get ahead of yourselves without the proper precautions—"

"_Oh for the love of all that is holy,_" James screeched.

"We should—" said Mrs. Potter, then she hesitated. "Jamesy, we need to have a serious talk about this."

Mr. Potter looked to her and nodded, though he still looked like he was finding all this to be terribly amusing.

"Son, we've never really properly explained this to you, but you're old enough now to know just how dangerous and life-changing having intercourse can be—"

The spoon in James' hand twitched toward his face. It looked like he'd briefly considered prying out his eyeballs with it.

"Well," Sirius announced loudly, pushing back his chair, "have fun talking about those-things-which-are-perfectly-normal-for-a-growing-boy-to-go-through, I'm finished. Thanks for the meal, Mrs. Po—"

"You're not going anywhere!" cried Mrs. Potter. "You're going to listen to this too! I'd expect any son of mine to be _informed!_"

Sirius' mouth had fallen open, quite possibly at the word 'son.'

"Sit," ordered Mrs. Potter.

Sirius sat.

"Good dog," muttered James.

"James! Stop taking this so lightly! This is extremely important for you to hear!"

"Mum, Dad, please, I don't need the Talk, don't do this to me," James whined. "And we've got guests, not now—"

Mrs. Potter looked down the table like she'd just realized that Remus and Peter were there.

"Oh, I suppose," she snapped.

"And you don't have to bother with me, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," said Sirius, beaming with his elbows on the table. "My parents already told me about the birds and the bees when I was seven."

"_Seven?_" Mrs. Potter gasped.

"That explains things," said James, angrily, clearly blaming him for what was happening. Remus imagined an innocent little Sirius, with big, bright eyes and his front teeth missing, being forced to hear a lot of unpleasant information.

Then he realized that he too was about to hear a lot of unpleasant information, if the Potters were to continue.

"But what for?" asked Mr. Potter.

"My parents thought I should know," Sirius explained. "I met one of my cousins for the first time and my parents said they'd decided that I'd be marrying her to, er, continue the noble bloodline and all. I asked what they were talking about, and they didn't spare me any of the details."

"Oh my," said Mrs. Potter, but everyone else round the table laughed, and Remus was so very glad, despite only recently getting the feeling back in his fingers, that he'd come.

What would Remus have been doing, really, if he'd stayed at home? He certainly couldn't bare to sit in silence with his parents, so he would have sat in silence in front of the television instead, and he would have watched a laughably awful Christmas special, and not be able to help but think of James when the reindeer would shun their bright-nosed friend. He would have tried to play chess, but Remus would have thought of Peter, and when he taught him to play five years ago. He would have even gone to bed early, too, but he would have worried about Sirius and the news of his brother going down his dark path, and wouldn't be able to sleep.

But now it seemed silly that he'd worried at all—Sirius was happy here. Everyone was happy here, and today was a good day to be surrounded by friends.

Remus just hoped that the Black family—and the rest of the world—would someday realize that this was the way that life was supposed to be: full of love and joy.

And he prayed that this would happen before it was too late.

--

"—_us."_

_He jerked awake._

"_Sirius—!"_

_Oh, and he'd been having a good dream too, one where he opened his cupboard and had fallen through and found out he'd had a different family, one that wasn't pureblooded, one that didn't care about that sort of thing at all—_

"_Mmwha?" he said, thickly._

"Sir-i-us!" _came the whining little voice again, and then Sirius was having his arm shaken. He blinked and twisted under his comforter, then sat up—his head smacked into something that gave a howling squeal of pain._

"Ow!" _said Regulus, and he massaged his forehead with his hand, looking irritable. Sirius' own head was feeling like he'd split it open._

"_Reg, what're you—don't lean over my bed like that! Go away!"_

"_You're the one that sat up all of a sudden! Don't be mean!"_

"_I'm_ _not_ _mean!"_

"_Are to!_"

"_I'm gonna _start_ being mean if you don't get out of my room! What do you _want, _Reg?"_

_Regulus stared at him quietly._

"_I couldn't sleep."_

_Sirius fell back onto his bed and crushed one of his pillows into Regulus' face._

"_Mmnngg!"_

"_Go back to bed! Leave me alone!"_

"_But I can't sleep!" moaned Regulus, pushing the pillow aside. "I really can't!"_

"_Then go bother Mum and Dad!"_

"_They're still downstairs at their Christmas party with the grown ups! And Kreacher isn't helping, he hasn't even put the warming pans in my bed because he's so busy… and you know how cold it gets in my room…"_

"_Then what do you want_ me _to do about it?"_

"_Well…" He was suddenly shuffling his feet. "Sirius, can I sleep with you?"_

"No! _Go away!"_

"_C'mon! You always used to let me!"_

"_You're nine! You're big now! And the last time I let you, you kept kicking me in your sleep! You kept me up!"_

"_I_ promise _I won't kick—"_

"_You can't promise you won't do anything while you're sleeping—"_

"_Please, please Sirius! I'll be good! Just once!"_

_Sirius gave his brother a nasty look, but looking him in the eye was definitely a mistake. Regulus' lip was trembling, and he'd gone and used the puppy eyes on him._

Never should have taught you that trick, _he thought, bitterly._

"_Alright,_ _alright…"_

_He lifted the covers, letting all the warmth escape._

"_Really?"_

"_Yes really! Now get in, it's cold!"_

_Regulus nodded and slipped in, shivering slightly, and then settled himself down next to his brother. Sirius made a point of budging over, putting a sufficient distance between then, and then moved some pillows around to share with him. He pulled the comforter back over their heads and closed his eyes._

"_Sirius?"_

"_What?"_

_Regulus wormed closer his brother, and Sirius didn't bother moving a second time. He was going to go back to sleep, dammit, Regulus nuzzling up against his side or not._

"_You don't really mean it, do you?" Regulus asked, quietly. " When you say you hate Mum and Daddy?"_

"_Be quiet, I'm trying to sleep."_

"_But I want to know. I mean, why? I don't get it. Why, Sirius?"_

"_You know why. It's because of what Mum and Dad think. It's not right. They've got things all mixed up."_

_It was very dark under the comforter, but Sirius could still tell that Regulus was frowning. Sirius had tried to explain this before, but he couldn't really expect for him to understand at his age that parents could be wrong, or that ten year olds could see what generations of Blacks hadn't been able to._

"_They aren't mixed up," Regulus said. "Sirius, I don't understand."_

"_You will. Someday."_

"_Mm."_

_There was a moment of quiet._

"_But I don't want anyone to be mad at each other, Sirius," Regulus whispered. "I don't want anyone to be mad. Especially not at you. You're the only brother I've got, and I—"_

"_It'll be okay," Sirius whispered back. "Just go to sleep, it'll be okay. Mum and Dad will know I'm right in the end, too. I know they will."_

_Regulus hugged his sibling around the middle before tightly closing his eyes, and Sirius let himself shift just a little closer._

And Regulus would know, in the end—in a cavern, throat burning, black water dribbling down from his chin, a hundred rotted hands, reaching up and dragging him down, down, down into the lake, never to resurface—that Sirius Black was, indeed, right.

--

--

AN: So I rewrote this entire chapter. And it ended up being the LONGEST CHAPTER YET.

James/Lily fans are gonna like the next chapter, hoohoo.

Also, no, not planning on any pairings other than the canon ones in this. I just wanted to keep the fantasizing out of it and tell the story of the Marauders in my own way. XD (Though I do ship any combination of James, Sirius and Remus—just don't tell anyone I said that, shh.)

And now, let us discuss Sirius. First off, don't get me wrong. I love Sirius—he made me laugh, and I liked the dynamic between him and Harry (well, before Sirius started going a bit nuts toward the end…no really, I am convinced he was having a breakdown, what with drinking and such). However, I did feel as if Rowling was right in her decision to have him die. Snape pretty accurately described Sirius' role in the story when he said that he was useless and unnecessary, and Sirius _needed_ to die, to force Harry to grow up, and stop depending on the memory of his father as support. Regardless of what others may say, I don't think Sirius died in vain—as long as you consider "dying for the sake of the plot" to be a good reason to die, and I most certainly do. I also thought that his death was handled extremely appropriately (UNLIKE SOME OTHERS I COULD MENTION), though I thought he should have been alive longer, or at least around Harry more in the two years that he knew him.

My version of the young Sirius came pretty easily. I tried to portray him as confident, energetic, loyal, and just a little arrogant, and I hope it seemed like his personality fit well with James'. I wanted to make him cheerful and fun too, because Sirius as Harry knew him was really depressing. (I think that in my ways he was a more tragic character than even Lupin.) My theme for him was "a need for friendship/support."

I also want to marry Regulus. Just sayin'.


	33. Year 6, Fortune: Fireworks

**V. Fireworks**

Someone came sliding out of the toilet in his socks, but it can't have been James, because James had hair that stuck out in more ways than their were directions, and this person's hair was almost painfully flat and straight.

"So?" he said. "You think it's alright?"

Peter and Remus were about to say something before Sirius swept forward and grabbed his shoulders. He shook him.

"_Who are you and what have you done with my best mate?_"

"Bit too much?" James asked, face falling.

"How many bottles of hair potion did you use, Prongs? Forty?"

"'Bout three."

"You look ridiculous," Remus told him, grinning, and Peter nodded.

"Sirius, please tell me I look alright," groaned James, a pleading look in his eyes. "This stuff is _expensive_—"

"And a fat lot of good it did you," Sirius answered, and he was unable to keep a straight face.

"Et tu, Sirius?" James sighed.

"_Sirie_, I think," said Peter. "Wasn't there a funny 'e' at the end?"

"Siri," Remus corrected. "In the vocative case, there's an exception to the rule for second declension nouns that end in—"

"_Hssss!_" James hissed, and it sounded like he'd been burned. He crossed his index fingers and held them out in front of him. "Back! Back from whence ye came, demon!"

Remus sighed.

"That didn't make an ounce of sense to anyone but me, did it?"

"You sounded like you were speaking in tongues, Moony," Sirius said somberly. "In any event—"

Sirius didn't ask before lifting a hand and mussing James' hair back up. Most of it sprung back to where it had once been.

"What did you just_ do?_"

"I made you look less stupid. Shame your face isn't quite such an easy fix."

"But Evans says she doesn't like it when my hair's all ruffled—"

"She said she doesn't like it when you ruffle it _intentionally, _ponce. Besides, you look like a completely different person without the logic-defying hair. You want to be recognizable as James Potter, don't you?"

"Well…"

James had a goal in mind—his New Year's Resolution was to finally snog Lily Evans, and by flattening out his hair, maybe that would help him out, because he assumed Lily might not protest so much if she couldn't figure out who on earth she was kissing.

Every year, the house-elves strung up mistletoe at strategic points in the castle, which was a good thing for some, and a point of misery for others. James was part of the former category, and he was taking full advantage of it: Lily Evans had stayed behind at Hogwarts this year, so he had been trying, ever since they'd come back to the castle for New Years, to accidentally be walking alongside her when there was some mistletoe in the area. But Lily had now taken to avoiding James more than ever lately, and would always be quick to figure out what he was doing.

"Very tricky," James would say under his breath, whenever Lily would conveniently have an excuse to be elsewhere and go scampering off.

She was not like most girls, however—many of them would almost look disappointed if they were to walk under some mistletoe and see that there was no one around, but most of the boys, like Remus and Peter, would pointedly go the long way around to avoid any misfortunes. But there were also people—Sirius, namely—who greatly enjoyed the Hogwarts mistletoe tradition, and there were also people—Sirius, namely, who practically stood in wait for someone to pass by, and was working on having his face permanently lipstick stained.

"What's the game plan, people? The clock's gonna start ticking in just a little bit!"

"Yeah, and we know you're going to need every second of next year if you want Evans to snog you by the end of it—"

"C'mon! Ideas! You all are supposed to be here to help me out! Moony, what turns Evans on?"

"Er—well, that's never really come up in conversation, to be honest."

"You're useless. Wormtail?"

"Do it by accident. Say you thought she was someone else?"

"That's the worst idea ever. You're more useless than Moony." James turned to Sirius. "Alright, Padfoot, you're my final hope. You've snogged more girls than you've got hairs on your head, haven't you? You've practically got a degree in the subject. What do you suggest?"

"I don't know, Prongs. This is a bit of a special case, you know—s'not often that I find myself fancying a girl and being a pathetic twit at the same time…"

"Sod off. Give me some advice here!"

"Well, there are many methods," Sirius said, hand tapping on his chin. "Maybe I could teach you some French and you can woo her that way?"

"You speak French?" Remus asked. He was impressed.

"_Naturellement,_" he answered, shrugging. "Mum made me learn when I was little—Blacks are supposed to be _toujours pur_, after all. Not that there's much use for it, other than for girl wooing."

"But will French work on her, Pads?"

"Sure it will. I haven't met a girl yet who's immune to it. Watch."

He then grasped James' hand, dropped onto one knee, and looked up at him with a romantic look in his eyes. His accent was perfect: "_Lily, ma chérie, mon petit chou… tu es si belle… je t'aime."_

Sirius immediately broke character and assured him, "she'll be licking your tonsils in about two more seconds."

"Wait, wait," Remus said, waving a hand, "Lily would think that's awfully tacky, I think—"

"_Gasp!_" Sirius exclaimed, actually saying the word 'gasp.' "Are you calling my methods _tacky?_"

"You don't think it's tacky?"

"Well," Sirius said, fairly.

"Whoa!" said Peter, checking the grandfather clock in the corner of the common room. "We've got no time, mates. There's only five minutes until midnight!"

Most of the other students would be going up to the Astronomy Tower to see the fireworks that would be shooting over Hogsmeade in a few moments, but the Marauders would be having a private party. They went upstairs and crowded onto one of the balconies in Gryffindor Tower.

"Hogsmeade's that direction, right? Wait, more to the left, maybe…"

"Okay, we've been working on the map for _how long?_ And you _still_ can't figure out where it is?"

"Shut up. I know where it is, it's right there. No, hold on—"

"Four minutes!"

Remus rubbed his hands together and shuddered as snow was blown off the tower above and fell onto their heads. He wished that they had bothered to wear their gloves and scarves, or at least put on their cloaks.

"Bloody cold Scotland!" Sirius complained. "London's _way_ warmer than this! We should have gotten one of the house-elves to make us hot cocoa!"

"That would have been nice. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're too busy badgering us for ideas?"

James just rolled his eyes and pulled a pocket watch out of his robes. It was another treasure that belonged to his family, though it rather boringly refused to do anything other than to accurately tell the time without needing to be wound up. "Two minutes. Well, let's spend this precious time coming up with more ideas, shall we?"

"Badger, badger. Give her roses and read poetry to her, I don't know," Sirius said, shrugging. He jumped up and sat on the ledge of the balcony, which really wasn't safe, but no one stopped him.

"I couldn't bare to do that. Well, I could, but if it didn't work, I wouldn't be able to live with the shame."

"Try just telling her you love her without making a fool of yourself," said Remus.

"Yeah, like he's going to manage to do _that_."

"He could snog her by surprise."

"I could be charged with assault, Wormtail. Forty-five seconds."

"Forty-four, forty-three—" Peter began.

"Don't start counting down _now_. That's annoying."

"What do _you_ care? Thirty-eight—"

"Seventy-six, thirteen and a half, twenty bazillion—"

"Padfoot, you're getting me off count!"

"How about we just count down from ten? That'd be simpler."

"Simple, but boring. I say that we're going to start counting down from seventeen."

"We're starting at thirteen and a half, that's final!"

"No!"

"Twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty—" muttered Peter.

"Alright, here we go!" announced James. "Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen—"

"Thirteen and a half!"

"Stuff it, Pads! Eleven—"

"Ten," said Remus, firmly. "Nine—"

"Wait, I think we're counting too slow!"

"I've got the bloody watch! We're at six!"

"Ah, bugger. Four!"

"Three—"

"Two—"

"Uno—"

"_HAPPY NEW YEAR!_" Sirius and James howled, and then an explosion of lights appeared over the trees with a series of loud bangs. Possibly every color imaginable was in the sky, making elaborate patterns and twisting and dancing—then, new firecrackers whistled into the air and the sparkling lights changed into an entirely different display.

"That's gorgeous," Remus said, leaning against the ledge. Wizard fireworks were much better than Muggle ones, after all.

"That one looks like a goat," said Peter, pointing, when the colors changed again. "If you squint."

"SHOOOULD OOOOOLD ACQUAINTANCE BEEEE FORGOT," Sirius bellowed, not caring that he was completely off-key, and then the others joined in for a rowdy, even more off-key rendition of the song, though with quite a bit of holes in the lyrics, since no one seemed to know all the words.

"Huzzah!" yelled James, at the conclusion. "A new year is upon us! What's your resolution, everyone?"

"To finally give you blokes the detentions you all deserve."

"Well, that's something to aspire to, at least—"

"To not fail Charms!" Peter exclaimed into the dark, as though he believed that fireworks granted wishes. He would need all the help he could get, in any event.

"To lose my virginity!"

"Sirius, that's hardly appropriate for shouting—"

"And _I'm_ gonna snog Evans!"

"_POTTER!_"

They all jumped out of their skins and whirled around. Lily Evans stood there, looking ferocious.

"Fancy seeing you here, Evans," James said, weakly. "Er, _why_ are you here?"

Lily crossed the balcony while raising a shaking fist and tried to give him a hard, sharp slap across the face—the kind that was reserved for jaw breaking, or just for James Potter in general—but James, luckily, caught her wrist.

"_Oi!_" he snapped. "What's the _matter_ with you?"

"I'M _TIRED_ OF IT!" Lily yelled. "I am _sick_ and _tired_ of you!"

"Wha—what'd I do this time?"

"You," she sputtered, "thinking! Argh! You've been making me take _walks! _And then I found out—DAMMIT!" she spat.

"You are utterly incoherent," James said with alarm.

"You know, I was fine with finding out you had—had that magic cloak!" she yelled. "I just dealt with it when I found out you're always out in the castle after dark! I don't care that I know you've been—been in the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade and probably a hundred other places when you're not supposed to be! I didn't even freak out properly when I found out Remus was a were—!"

"Lily, _please_," Remus hissed.

"And then I heard that Dumbledore—Professor Dumbledore wants to make you and me Head Boy and Girl next year—"

"_What?_"

"Something—something about cooperation—teamwork—when Dumbledore saw us—"

"Oh my God," whimpered James. He looked frantically at the others. "They can't make me Head Boy. I don't want to be a gigantic prat, I don't—"

"And—_and_—" babbled Lily, clenching and unclenching her hands, "and I think—if I saw what I think I saw—James, you're a _deer?_"

"_WHAT?_"

"Oh _hell_," said Remus and Peter together.

"_Well!_" said Lily, pulling at her hair and looking very insane, "well—well I'm tired of you! I'm tired of figuring things out the hard way! I'm tired of being left out! I keep getting dragged into your crap and then getting shoved out again! I want to know what the hell's going on! I wanna know if I'm insane or if you all are! I want to know—why do I—? Why are you so _infuriating?_ Why am I worried when I clearly _should—not—be? _And then he said—he said, if I wanted to know, if I was curious—that I should come. And I—I did. So that's—_"_

Lily lost all of her steam and James regarded her critically, lip moving but not saying anything at all. Lily bit down on hers, and Remus was fairly certain that the two of them had never made such intense eye contact before.

"So," James ventured, "wait, you never said, _why_ did come up here?"

"Because—because sometimes I want to know," she said quietly, breathing hard through her nose. "Sometimes I want to—smash your head open—but sometimes—"

"Sometimes _what?_"

"Sometimes I want to know if there'd—if I—but then I don't—I don't think that I—ARGH!" Lily shouted, raving again. "I _HATE_ YOU! BUGGER YOU! BUGGER YOU ALL! EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU! I'M LEAVING!"

"_Wait,_" James begged. "What are you _on_ about? And—did you call me _James_ earlier?"

"GET IT THROUGH YOUR _THICK HEAD_!" Lily roared, then turned around, and charged back into the common room.

She paused.

Lily came back, stormed forward, and, after grabbing James by the tie, she threw her whole weight forward and kissed him.

There was enough force involved to knock James against the balcony's ledge, or maybe that was just James losing control of his body parts. One could actually watch his expression changing from delight to horror to delight again—clearly, the only explanation was that his innards were jumping around inside him, turning themselves inside out, or else flying off into all the wrong places.

Several years later, or maybe ten seconds later, Lily tore her lips back off of him, bright red.

"Well that answered my question," she said, faintly, and stalked off again, looking wobbly.

It was silent, save for the extremely loud noises still coming from the distance.

Peter looked at James' pocket watch.

"Wish granted in less than five minutes," he said. "That's got to be a record."

"I am bamboozled," announced Remus. "What just happened?"

"T-that—" blathered James, who was now gingerly touching his mouth, as though Lily had just turned it into a sacred relic, "that's what I want to know."

"I think the universe must have imploded," said Peter, raising his eyebrows. "Did she use her tongue, Prongs?"

"Er, y-yes," he answered, raggedly. "There _was_ a tongue involved—at least I think it was a tongue, I'm not really sure, I was too busy trying very hard not to lose consciousness—good Lord, I think Lily Evans _Frenched me_. Is she ill? Is this all just a terrible misunderstanding? Am I dreaming? Someone pinch me. That didn't really happen did it? Does anyone know why nothing makes sense anymore? And I agree with Wormtail, it's like the universe imploded, and took all logical logic with it—that shouldn't have happened, that can't have happened, that was completely fixed, someone must have—"

He paused.

Then, there was a very slow, synchronized turn towards the one person who hadn't yet said a word throughout the entire incident. It wasn't hard to notice, after all, when Sirius wasn't talking, because this was a rare occurrence, and when they saw him, he was doubled over on his seat on the ledge, trying to suppress an enormous cackle.

"Why have I got the feeling that you're involved with this?" Remus asked, serenely.

"I, er," he said, trying to get through a sentence without snickering, "well, to tell you the truth, I've only been snogging those girls recently to try to get information out of them—that Mary girl, Evans' friend, she told me that Evans worried she fancied Prongs. You know, ever since that date."

Remus looked over. If James' eyes went any wider her was going to hurt himself.

"So I might have told her to come up here if she really wanted to know," Sirius explained, examining the back of his hand. "I thought the fireworks would be conducive to a romantic atmosphere, though I didn't know she'd do _that_, exactly..."

James and Sirius, while probably closer than two friends had ever been, weren't exactly the sort to sit around and make friendship bracelets or actually say how much they meant to one another. And yet, right now, James seemed happy enough to go buy himself some beading supplies.

"You are the best—you are the _best_ fucking mate in the world," James gasped.

"To the bitter end, Mr. Potter," said Sirius, and gave him a playful salute. "Go get her, tiger."

"I think I shall," said James, and, after a final attempt to flatten his hair, he threw himself back through the doorway and chased after Lily.

For Remus, who came to Hogwarts despite his condition, for Sirius, who defied his blood, and for James, who would marry the girl of his dreams, it seemed what they say was right—fortune truly does favor the brave.

--

--

AN: They don't start officially dating till seventh year though. Lily needs some time (in my mind…) to admit she's in love. XD;

On top of knowing Latin (hence the Et tu Siri? joke for the nerds out there) I actually do know French but I figured I'd keep it simple so you'd know what Sirius was saying and how soppy it was. But here's the translation, in any case: "Lily, my dear, my little cabbage (French term of endearment, like how we call people pumpkin), you are so beautiful, I love you." The other French things he said were "naturally" and the Black motto, "always pure."

HEY PEOPLE! TWSBB is winding down now! We've got the final part and the epilogue coming up. Be here for it!

Thanks for **100** reviews!!


	34. Year 7, Final Act: Burning

**Final Act: Burning**

"Oops, watch your step there…"

"Oh yes, tell me to watch my step _after_ I nearly fall through the hole in the floor," Lily grumbled.

"You know I'd never let anything hurt you, Lily dearest," James told her, in the most revolting manner possible, and Lily smacked him.

"Remind me why I like you?"

"Because you find me strangely adorable?"

"If we're going to let her come you're not allowed to be flirting the entire time," said Sirius, rolling his eyes as they picked their way to the middle of the front room. "Evans doesn't count as a full-time Marauder, if you'll recall."

"Won't happen again, Pads. That is, of course, if Lily's mere presence doesn't force me to say something achingly romantic."

"Prongs, shut it or I will make you shut it."

"Well, then what do I have to do to become a Marauder?" asked Lily, playing along.

"Be obnoxious," Remus snorted from behind her, "First and foremost."

"You also have to be irresistibly handsome," added Sirius. "We've had to make a few exceptions with that, though."

"Yeah, and you consider everyone but _you_ to be exceptions," grumbled Peter. He'd been rather distant lately, but this fact wasn't of much concern to any of the group quite yet.

"Why of course, Wormtail. You know me so well."

"What are the _real_ requirements?" insisted Lily.

"Be willing to get into inordinate amounts of trouble," James said, considering a mental list that was unbeknownst to the others. "Be a defender of the common prankster. Be loyal to one's friends. Have a bizarre sense of humor. And then of course what everyone else already said."

"You _can't_ be serious."

"Why not, Evans? Surely you don't doubt the madness to our methods?"

"Well, no, I suppose I could believe it, but those things seem like awfully stupid traits to look for in a person. Besides, it's supposed to the method to one's mad—"

"Well of course it'd be stupid to you, you thoughtless harpy, capturer of Prongsie's heart!"

Sirius collapsed dramatically against the wall of the Shrieking Shack. Lily sighed and cast Remus a meaningful look.

"Are they like this all the time?"

"Unfortunately."

"It's only because we've got a girl person with us," Sirius explained, grinning. "We ought to be on our best, most sane behavior with an intruder in our midst."

"By the way," said James, watching Lily carefully, "how do you like our secret hideout now that you've seen the inside?"

"It's certainly charming," she said, gazing about with her arms folded. "You know, all these years I thought this place was haunted, but now that I'm here, it's not scary at all, actually. You tell me you've never seen a ghost here?"

"Oh no, plenty of ghosts," James lied with gusto. "They're probably just afraid of catching your cooties at the moment. Hiding upstairs, I s'pect."

"Har har," said Lily.

"Didn't we have business to attend to?" Remus reminded them.

"Oh right! Yes, we didn't take Lily here just for the sake of giving her a tour of our cozy home away from home. Let me see—yup, right here it is. We might as well show her our _magnum opus_."

"I've managed to teach him a little Latin," Remus told Lily under his breath. "Now he's just showing off."

But Lily wasn't paying much attention. She was staring at a large piece of parchment that James had produced from the recesses of his cloak. He brushed off a few cracker crumbs and then held it out so she could see it properly.

"This is it," James said proudly.

"It's a piece of paper," Lily said, confused.

"Ah, but it's not any old piece of paper. _This,_ my dear, is the Marauder's Map. I'll give you the honors."

James put it into Lily's hands. Everyone was smiling and waiting for her reaction to their masterpiece.

"Take out your wand, tap it, and say, '_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_.'"

"Did you come up with that one yourself?" Lily asked, faintly.

"Yes, of course I did. I thought it was very appropriate. Try it out."

Lily gave the paper a suspicious stare and gave up. Holding the parchment out in front of her, she touched her wand to it and said, "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_."

She jumped. Instantly, a great blot of ink blossomed from the place where her wand had been, and lines unfurled from it, zigzagging and coming together again across every square centimeter of the parchment, like a spider's web, only much more intricate.

It was possibly the most brilliant thing to have ever existed—it was a map of Hogwarts Castle and the grounds, no detail overlooked, with hundreds of little marks labeled with names moving all about. Lily, with her mouth wide open, traced the secret passageway from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack with her index finger and found five miniscule names written there, placed exactly where they stood. At the top of the map, curly green letters proclaimed what it was and who had made it: The Marauder's Map, created by Misters Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

"Good heavens," Lily said at last.

"I even marked 'Lily Evans' with a little heart instead of using the boring old dots everyone else has," James pointed out to her. "It's a testament to my undying love for you, you see."

"You look a bit peaky there, Evans," Sirius said with delight.

"I—I—"stammered Lily, "I thought all of you were just a bunch of bumbling idiots! With attention spans like goldfish! Well, not Remus, but—"

"Thank you," Remus said graciously.

"Did you _honestly_ make this? In secret? How long did this _take_?"

"We slaved away at it for about two years to get to our final product," James said, looking satisfied by the look of shock on Lily's face. "We've been using shoddy prototypes ever since we started the project, though."

"That's what these are," Sirius said, and he opened his schoolbag he'd brought with him. Inside were more than a hundred sheets of parchment, which had been drawn all over and were in various stages of looking like a properly functioning map.

"It took a lot of work," Remus explained. "And we had a _lot_ of problems to sort out."

"And there are inevitably going to be things yet to find," said James, "so we haven't put any locking spells on it. We're hoping that we can leave it here at the school, so that once we're gone, a true prodigy of mischief-making can come along and make good use of it and maybe even improve on it. Who knows, maybe one of our own offspring will be worthy of being the next owner of the Marauder's Map."

"That map could outlive us," Sirius said brightly. "And when it's found again, centuries from now, it'll help to breed a whole new generation of Hogwarts students who will never again blindly follow the system. We'll be famous, one of these days."

"We're already famous," said James, looking wounded. "We've made more history at this school than the last thousand years of students put together, I'll bet."

"We've certainly broken the school record for most detentions, at least," Peter said.

"That we have. And I will cherish every single line of 'I will stop having blatant disregard for school rules' I've had to write for the rest of my life."

"Be serious now," said Lily, frowning. "Is rule-breaking really that noble? The rules are in place for a reason, you know."

"Rules! Ha!" said James. "Rules only exist because they are the whims of authority figures. People ought to realize that if they keep their nose out of trouble they won't experience even half of what life has to offer. Life is too short to be wasted by spending all your time trying to avoid punishments."

"They're really not all that hard to avoid, but whatever you say," Lily sighed. "And what was the point of bringing all those old versions along, er, Padfoot?"

"Certainly has a nice ring to it when she says it," Sirius said, snorting. "Evans, we've brought these along to say goodbye to them."

"What? What do you mean?"

"We're going to destroy them," James said cheerfully. "We're going to burn them so that the smoke may reach the heavens and let the gods know of the noble work we have done for mankind. _Incen_—"

"No, don't!" Lily protested, and she made a grab for his wand. "What's the point of burning what you've worked so hard on? Wouldn't you rather keep them as souvenirs?"

"Keep them as souvenirs? Who knew you'd be so sentimental?"

"I'm not, I'm just saying…"

"What's the point of keeping them?" asked Sirius. "Let the burning begin, that's what I say. What would we do with them other than to tack them to our walls and sigh as we remember our foolish adolescent years?"

"Er," said Lily.

"Even the map itself isn't that important, you know. It's just made out of paper, and it's hardly going to withstand the test of time." James yanked one of the old sketches from Sirius' bag and crumpled it up in his hand to prove his point. "See? Ruined, just like that. But it's the future that the map will change when it's found again that's going to count, you know? And even if that gets destroyed eventually, it'll be okay. We aren't going to need a bunch of old drawings to remind anybody that the Marauders left their mark on this school. We don't need any proof of what we did here because centuries from now people will still know our names. We Marauders intend to leave behind a legacy for as long as Hogwarts is still around."

Lily seemed a little stunned again.

"Well," James added, shrugging, "and we also don't want to leave any evidence behind."

"True enough," she agreed, laughing. "Alright, I see your point. Destroy away, then."

"That's the spirit," James said, and then he turned to his mates. "Ready, everybody?"

"Ready," said Remus.

"Yep," said Peter.

"I'm always ready," said Sirius, with an eyebrow wiggle.

James glanced at Lily, and she gave a final nod.

"_Incendio!_"

A ball of blue flame shot from James' wand and it hovered a meter from the floor. He motioned to Sirius, who dumped the rest of the past versions of the Marauder's Map onto the ground.

"Have at it!" encouraged James, and together, they began to toss them into the fire, one by one.

Remus, who held one of the earliest sketches of the Map above the fire and watched the flames lick at its edges, believed that James Potter said a lot of ridiculous things, but every once in a while, he said something profoundly wise.

It was true, of course, that the Marauder's Map would not last for all eternity. Nothing would, regardless of whether it was made of tougher stuff than dirty old parchment, and the inevitable end to everything was to burn away, to crumble and turn to dust, and exist no longer.

Perhaps that meant to some people that life was meaningless. But to the Marauders, no—to them, that meant that this fleeting existence was something to be treasured.

And, if the world were to burn at all, it should burn brightly.

"God I'll miss Hogwarts," said Sirius some time later, sighing as he looked at the Shack and its state of general disrepair. It was their very last day of seventh year, the very last day of their Hogwarts careers. "And I'll miss this place too. We've had so many good times here."

"I'll miss its musty smell," James admitted, with a poetic air. "And the vermin, and the spiders. And the things that go bump in the night, certainly," he added, making Lily narrow her eyes at him.

"I'll miss Quidditch," Sirius lamented. "And our common room, and the food, and Hogsmeade…"

"I'll miss the classes," Remus mentioned, knowing that no one else was going to risk looking so dull. "And we'll never be able to have another visit to the library…"

"I'll even miss detention, and the Gryffindor house points always being in the negatives. Haha, remember when McGonagall took fourteen thousand for abusing my Head Boy powers? Totally worth it, being able to dock Slytherin points for looking at me funny, though. Or that one time I took twenty from Sirius for hogging the shower. I'll miss all that."

"Well," sighed Lily, "I'll miss the professors, really. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick—"

"I'll miss you blokes," Peter said quietly.

"Oh come on, that's just depressing," Sirius complained. "It's not like we're all going to drop off the face of the earth by tomorrow. We can still see each other every day, if we want, and you can all come crash at my flat for as long as you like. I know we were all planning on joining up with Dumbledore's Phoenix Order thing, but as soon as I get my motorcycle working again, I'm going to drag all to the flat by force and we can skive off adulthood for as long as we like."

"Oh, I don't know, Pads," James said. He sighed dramatically. "That would have sounded good a year ago, but Lily might make me think otherwise. Your know, in the event that she would want to, maybe, do something, I don't know, completely crazy like getting married. Or something along those lines."

"Did you just completely offhandedly propose to me?" asked Lily, who had her eyebrows raised.

"Maybe," James said, eyes shifting.

"Oh, _God,_" said Sirius, shivering. "Here we are discussing the good old days and then you go and get marriage involved. Get a _room_, will you?"

"You're getting ahead of yourself anyway," Lily told James. "You should go find me a ring first, at least."

"Will flowers do?" asked James, and then he said, "_Liliumous," _and a bouquet of lilies erupted from the tip of his wand.

"You're getting closer," she said stiffly, but took the flowers with a grin.

"You two make me want to vomit," Sirius announced.

"Vomit all you like, but I expect you to be there for the birth of every single one of my twelve children, Pads," James told him seriously, and Lily turned bright red. Remus smiled a little—sometimes he worried that James was too flippant or Lily was too boar-headed to stay together for the long term, but he supposed that like many things in the lives of the Marauders, it would all end up working out in mysterious and unexplainable ways.

"I _definitely_ don't want to think about you two popping out kids together," groaned Peter. "Nor all that that would entail."

"Let's get back before we all start having mental images that we'll never be able to unsee," Remus suggested, checking his watch.

"Good call, Moony. Let's head out. Lovebirds first, of course. Oh, that would include me, how convenient. Come, my princess! We've got to go hide this map somewhere before dinner starts!"

Lily rolled her eyes, but in a very affectionate way, and James took her by the hand before dragging her out of the room.

"Nutters, I tell you," said Sirius, shaking his head. He smiled, however, before chasing after them.

"C'mon Moony," said Peter, and followed.

Remus let out a tiny sigh as he let his eyes sweep through the shack one last time.

There would be no more monthly adventures, no more exploring after dark with three illegal Animagi, no more subsequent detentions.

The chance to trip up old Snivellus and watch him fall on his gigantic nose was over, and so was the opportunity to curse Regulus while his back was turned, or watch Filch go white with rage.

Peter would never steal another of his chocolate bars, nor would James score another ten points for Gryffindor, nor would Sirius write "ME" on another star chart.

There would be no more finding rude drawings in his textbooks courtesy of Peter, no more watching James knick firewhiskey, no more seeing Sirius choke on his first cigarette.

Remus would have to go without the embarrassment of smelling like an exploded dungbomb, the late night skinny-dipping in the lake, or falling asleep on rumbly train rides like he nearly always did.

And though Remus would miss all of these things, in a way, it was time to move on. The days of the Marauders at Hogwarts had officially ended, and they had their tragedies to face from here on—but before that, before the world burned down around them, they would go back to Hogwarts Castle, and laugh and eat like kings for one more night.

Yes. That sounded like an excellent idea.

"_Nox_," Remus said finally, and the light vanished from the tip of his wand, plunging the room into darkness. Then he said, for good measure, "_mischief managed._"

Remus J. Lupin turned around and left the Shrieking Shack. He left behind him the place where he had experienced pain and happiness and a thousand things in between, and where memories of it all would linger in the air like whispers, forevermore.

--

--

AN: ONE MORE PART LEFT! Sob. T'was so fun while it lasted. Be here for the epilogue! After that, I'm going to go back and fix typos, but that's it. I'll be writing other bits of HP fanfiction in the future, though. :)  
…

I just noticed that I have the Marauders leaving the room in a rather unfortunate order in this chapter. ._.;


	35. Spring of 1981, Epilogue: From Ashes

AN: Putting the author's note at the top this time to make things look a little more final at the end!

So here's the epilogue, taking place just seven months before the end. I'll be wrapping things up here because this story was never about the Order, the war, or any of the depressing things that happened, so those things can be left to your imagination. This is about the Marauders and the happy moments in their lives. Please try to understand that this is it. =)

Enjoy the epilogue! I will go back now and fix things and add new scenes that I felt should be there. Feel free to read again sometime soon. THANK YOU, to everyone who has stuck with me to the end!

--

--

**Epilogue: From Ashes**

The skies were clear and full of sunshine, the air was warm, and one could see that everything in the tidy village was blooming, from the trees right down to the flower boxes. A few Muggles, so blissfully unaware of the troubles within the Wizarding world, were outside and enjoying the gorgeous spring weather, but not a single one of them noticed that two rather peculiarly dressed men in robes of brown and navy had just appeared out of thin air.

This place was Godric's Hollow, and these men were Remus J. Lupin and Sirius Black, respectively.

"Honestly," said Remus, as a little girl with pigtails looking in his direction, but she seemed to be seeing straight through his stomach. "I'm almost insulted. There's not a single one of them staring."

"Of course not," said Sirius. "We've Apparated right where we needed to be. Muggles can't see anything past their gate but an empty lot—we don't want rumors of odd people in cloaks roaming around, do we? Well, c'mon then…"

But when Remus looked behind him, all he could see were two perfectly ordinary houses on either side of the point where Sirius was staring. It looked to Remus as though Sirius was merely looking at a patch of interesting grass.

"I suppose I'm a Muggle now," Remus said, interestedly. "I can't see anything either."

"That'd be the _point_, Remus. We've got to have safety measures against wizards too, of course. Just hold on, I need to divulge my gravely secretive top-secret secret first—"

Sirius rustled around in his robe's pocket and pulled out a bit of parchment. Remus took it from him.

_The Potters_, it said, in Sirius' curly handwriting, _live at number seven, High Street, in Godric's Hollow._

The parchment wiped itself blank a second later, and Sirius took it back.

"Think about what you just read," he instructed.

The grass at their feet suddenly crumpled up, like an accordion, and a roof popped out of the grown, as though it thought it was just another weed. Next, an entire cottage erupted into existence, and shoved the houses on either side out of the way. A Muggle, sitting on the porch of the house on the right, didn't even look up from her newspaper.

"That is really incredible," Remus gasped. "And I can only see it because you've told me where it is?"

"'Tis the nature of Fidelius Charm," Sirius replied, looking pleased, and then they went up the lawn and passed some leafy bushes. They knocked on the door.

Barely a moment had passed before someone on the other side of it hissed, in a suspicious voice, "Who's there?"

"It is I, Sirius Black," Sirius announced to the door, "come on this twenty-seventh day of March to celebrate the joyous occasion of the esteemed James Potter's birthday—"

"That's you, alright," Lily snorted from the other side. "Is there anyone with you?"

"Yeah, Remus Lupin's here too," said Remus. "Peter wanted to come, but he's covering for Sirius, and I had to ask for the day off—"

"You're supposed to be convincing her of who you are," Sirius reminded him, sharply.

"Oh, right—"

But the door creaked open. Lily stood on the other side with a smile, looking very mature with her hair pulled back and earrings in. Remus couldn't help that she'd changed a lot since the baby—she definitely had that air of a doting mother about her now.

"I trust you. Come on in."

They stepped over the threshold and Lily welcomed them into her home. The cottage looked like a very cozy place to live, if not a bit crowded with their possessions, because the Potters had been cooped up inside since the Fidelius Charm had been performed eight months ago. The living room alone was crammed full of furniture, and there were Gryffindor banners and picture frames and colorful knick-knacks littered all about. Remus could see leftover slices of birthday cake on the kitchen counter from where he stood.

"How've you blokes been?" Lily asked them, giving Remus a pat on the arm.

"We're both fine," answered Remus. "It's getting rough out there though—never been busier at the Order. Sorry I've only been writing letters and haven't had the chance to come, but with Sirius in hiding, and me trying to convince those werewolves to come over on our side—"

"And you've lost weight," Lily noted, looking concerned. Remus' faded robes definitely hung more loosely on him now, and face was less full.

"Ah, well, you know," Remus said, quickly, "been trying to get healthier…"

Lily frowned at him, obviously sensing that he was lying. Sirius coughed.

"And I've been in several undisclosed locations," he said, hastily. "Which I will not be disclosing. You'd never know if Lily Potter was actually a spy working to uncover Lily Potter's location."

"I appreciate your hard work," Lily told him, and she tried very hard not to smile, but failed. "I suppose it's kept you so busy you haven't given a thought toward getting a haircut, then?"

"Nah," said Sirius, and he patted his black hair as though proud of the fact that he'd let it grow long enough that he was now having to tie it back to keep it out of his eyes. "I like it this way, it's—"

Sirius' gaze fell on what appeared to be a grey and white cat, curled up on an armchair.

"Cat lovers!" he grumbled, looking playfully angry. "Cat lovers, the whole lot of you!"

"Well, we can't very well have gotten a dog. How would we take it for walks?"

James Potter had just come down the stairs, stretching his arms out over his head. He was wearing a new pair of glasses and his chin was stubbly, but otherwise didn't look much different from usual.

"Fair point," Sirius admitted, casually, as though James had been there all along. "But I would have volunteered to be your dog if you'd really wanted one."

"And have you take a leak on our carpet? No thanks."

"Oi, I'm house broken. Well, mostly. And nice glasses, by the way, I suppose it was hard finding a pair that horrible."

"I think they make me look more like an adult," James countered, and he readjusted them, so that the lenses caught the light from the windows and flashed. "I needed a new pair anyway. The old ones got crushed."

"Ah. That must have been when we were fighting those Death Eaters way back in June. I do seem to remember that."

"I imagine you would. Considering that you were the one that stepped on them."

They looked at each other, and Remus was wondering how long it would be before they couldn't keep up the act any longer. Lily, who stood just behind James, was already mouthing, "Three—two—one—"

"Aw, Sirius, come here you bastard," James said, eyes suddenly streaming, and he threw his arms around Sirius, who, likewise, threw his arms around James. It wasn't their typical shoulder punch greeting, and Remus appreciated how hard their long separation must have been on both of them.

"Hi James," said Sirius, weakly.

"Wow," said James, when he pulled away, and his voice was ragged. "It's been bloody forever since I saw you last. Wow, Christ, it's really good to see you, this is the best birthday present I've gotten—"

"I missed you too, mate. Really has been yonks, hasn't it? You doing alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good—maybe a little stir crazy, but I'm good—"

"That's great—great to hear—"

"And it's a good thing you managed to come round today!" James said, the strength back in his voice. "If you missed my birthday I could have died of a broken heart, you know."

"Absence does make the heart grow fonder," Sirius told him, and gave him one of those smiles that left no question as to how he'd managed to charm so many girls over the years. "And it's not like I've been doing it on purpose. Saving the world and being a Secret-Keeper takes up a lot of your time."

"Yeah, I know. We owe you our lives for this. Still—"

"Oh Prongs," cried Sirius, "though I have been forced into hiding, I have yearned for your presence for many a month—"

"Indeed, Padfoot, my love, just seeing you has made my heart go all a flutter—"

"Oi," Lily snapped, smiling partially. "Not in front of the wife."

"Uh oh, she's on to us," James said, to which Sirius sniggered, and then James turned. "Remus! Hello to you too, good sir. How've you been? Found any work yet?"

"Finally," Remus replied, and he put out a hand so that James could shake it, but he pulled him into another embrace instead. Remus thought, _eh, what the hell,_ and squeezed back.

"That's excellent. What're you doing?"

"Just—well, just taking orders and restocking shelves at Flourish and Blotts."

"That's something at least. Is it paying the bills though? I can still help you out if you want."

"No, no, you've been too kind already," Remus said, flushing. "I can't take any more of your family's money—"

"That money is mine to give to someone who needs it," James insisted, but Lily, sensing that she needed to save Remus from financial embarrassment, changed the subject.

"Would you boys like some birthday cake?" she asked, eyeing Remus' cheekbones, which had definitely sharpened since the last time she'd seen him. "I made it so big, but then James and I were the only ones who ate any—well, Harry got some too, but he just smeared it all over his face."

Remus' question of whether it was chocolate or not was talked right over by Sirius.

"We'll have some later, Lily—oi, where _is_ Harry, anyway? He was just this titchy little thing the last time any of us got to see him."

"He's having a kip," James said. "I was just tucking him in, so best not disturb him."

"But knowing his father, I'm sure he's still wide awake," Lily pointed out. "Let's bring them upstairs, James. They might not get another chance."

"That's true. But I'll have to warn you blokes that he gets awfully cranky if he's woken up. He'll go off like a bomb on you."

"Bring it on," said Sirius, and he rolled up his sleeves as though primed for a fight. James made sure to punch him.

They traveled up the stairs and crept into the nursery—it was a very charming little room, with a white crib and rocking chair, and the blue wallpaper had little stars on it that moved around and shimmered.

"Harry, no, no!" scolded Lily, rushing in. "Don't do that, you'll knock the stuffing out!"

Harry Potter was not having a kip at all. He was very much awake and sitting up with a plush dinosaur toy in his hands, which he was currently bashing against the frame of his crib with a violent amount of force. A few more hits, and one of its button eyes popped off.

"S'pect that's _exactly_ how the dinosaurs were wiped out," Sirius said, looking extremely amused.

"Killed by an eight-month-old, the whole lot of them," James agreed, fondly, and Remus laughed. Lily, meanwhile, picked Harry out of his crib and held him on her hip so that she could bring him closer to their visitors. Harry seemed rather sad that she had taken his dinosaur away from him.

"Well, here's our little cherub. He's actually very well behaved when he's not causing mass extinctions. And Harry, these are our friends—Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. They were there when you were born, but I'm sure you don't remember them, huh?"

Harry looked at both of them and his lip suddenly trembled, as though preparing himself to go off like the aforementioned bomb. Lily noticed this and immediately tried to shush him, but he had already started to whine.

"C'mon, Harry, they're not _that_ terrifying," James said, and edged into the room from behind Sirius and Remus. Harry seemed instantly comforted by the sight of his father, and he reached out to him with his little hands. James came up and patted him on the head as Harry pulled on his sleeve. It was a quaint little picture, so very refreshing to see with all the terrible things that were happening beyond the walls of the Potters' cottage—Lily looking pleased, Harry tugging on James' sleeve, and James smiling down on his son.

"Can I hold him?" asked Sirius, cheerfully. "I want to see him. He's gotten so _big_—"

"He's been growing like a monster, from what I can tell," Remus said, and Lily passed Harry to Sirius while saying, "careful now…"

"I've got him, I've got—_ow_, ouch! Leggo!"

Harry had grabbed a fistful of Sirius' hair and was zealously attempting to rip it out. Sirius' eyes watered.

"He's got an violet streak," James explained, warmly. "Got that from Lily-bily."

"James, shut up," said Lily, perhaps twice as warmly.

"That's—very nice but—" Sirius said, wincing, "he's not—letting—go."

"There's an easy solution," Remus offered, making a motion with his hand as though he had a pair of scissors.

"Is _everyone_ having a go at my hair today? Hello, that's better," said Sirius, as Harry finally released him to stick his thumb in his mouth. Harry had an expression of angelic innocence.

"Bloody hell, you're the _epitome_ of adorable," Sirius felt compelled to let Harry know, and he lifted him up into the air. Harry smiled and made a happy noise.

"That's the general consensus around here," said Lily, proudly.

"You look a lot like your father, did you know that?" asked Sirius, still talking to Harry. "Though I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing. You've got your mum's eye, though—very cute green eyes. You're cute all over, really. Don't you think he's cute, Remus?"

"Yes, he's _extremely_ cute," Remus agreed, but then, looking over toward the crib, he saw that the faces of Harry's parents had both fallen.

"Sirius—" began James.

"Here we go!" Sirius exclaimed, and made a loud _Woooooo!_ noise and moved Harry through the air—Harry laughed like it was the best game in the world. When Sirius stopped again, he noticed that a silence had fallen in the room for the first time.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Was I too rough with him?"

"No, that's not it," said James, and he glanced at Lily, who seemed to know what he was thinking about. "It's, well, Sirius—we need to ask you something."

"Shoot," he said, though he looked apprehensive.

"I've been thinking. We've had eight months of this, trying to protect Harry, and…" James sighed heavily. "Well, it's always a possibility that Lily and I might not make it."

"James," Remus tried to interrupt, but James waved a hand at him.

"No really. The reality is that something could go wrong, and if that happened—"

"Don't even consider it, Prongs," interrupted Sirius. He suddenly sounded very stern, and Harry squirmed, perhaps sensing the tension in the room. "You know that Dumbledore's made every precaution to keep you and Lily and Harry safe. You've got the whole Order protecting you—"

"The point is," James pressed, "if we die, Harry needs someone to take care of him. And he—he hasn't got anyone, other than us."

James made a small choking noise, and Sirius blinked rapidly. Lily looked at James sadly and squeezed his hand. The Potters, Harry's grandparents, had both died shortly before he was born.

"So," James said, roughly, "Lily and I have decided—Sirius, we're asking if you'd be his godfather."

Remus glanced around. Sirius seemed mildly stunned, and James waited for an answer with an uncharacteristically serious expression. A fairly long time had passed before Sirius finally cleared his throat.

"Well, James, er." He divided his attention between James and Harry. "I _want_ to say yes, but—but I mean, James, are you sure? I'm not exactly—I've never really considered myself to be parent material, you know. You're—you're _obviously_ a great father, but I'm—"

Sirius looked completely unsure.

"You're my best mate," said James firmly, but his lip had started to tremble, just like Harry's had earlier. "And you're family, you know that. I can trust you and that's what matters. You don't have to be perfect—God knows I'm not—but I can rest easy if I know that you can be there if—if we—"

"And Lily agrees too?" asked Sirius.

"Yes, I absolutely agree," Lily said. She nodded fiercely. "No one better."

"But—"

"_Sirius_," said Remus impatiently. "Would you just say yes already? I don't know if you've noticed, but James is about to burst into tears."

James looked sheepish as he wiped his hand across his eyes on the pretense that he was just cleaning his glasses. Lily patted her husband on the back, trying very hard, from the look of it, not to laugh.

"We both want you to be Harry's godfather, and that's that," she said. "And we're not going to take no for an answer, by the way, so you'd best say yes."

"Well if that's the case, then—then of course I will," said Sirius, smiling hesitantly, and he seemed both strangely happy and relieved. He addressed Harry and said, "but is that alright with you? D'you want me to be your godfather?"

Harry spit up on himself.

"I can tell he's thrilled," snorted James, and now everyone was laughing, and things were instantly alright once more. James pulled a handkerchief out of his jeans pocket and came forward with it. "Thanks, Sirius. I know we're safe but—just in case."

"Just in case, yeah. I know."

Sirius bounced his new godson up and down, and Harry laughed again. They seemed like quite the pair.

"Now, don't be hogging Harry, Sirius," said Lily. "Remus, do you want to hold him?"

"Me? Oh, yeah, I'd love to hold him—"

Sirius gave Harry one last affectionate look as he gave him up, and as Remus held Harry very delicately in his arms, they blinked at each other. For a moment, nothing happened, but then Harry cooed happily, and Remus felt a helplessly delighted smile forming on his lips.

Remus wondered to himself why he'd never really appreciated the marvel that babies really were, and their amazing way of spreading joy to everyone around them. Remus supposed that he too had been this small once, been looked after by his parents once, but that was when his world had been completely free of worries, and he couldn't remember those days at all. A lot had changed, now that he was twenty-one and feeling far too old, but of one thing, he was still certain: that people would stick together, no matter the hardships they faced.

"Many of us will not survive," Dumbledore had said, when the Order had first gathered around him, three years ago. "But many more shall be killed, if we are to remain idle. I ask that each of you be willing to sacrifice yourselves for a future that may not exist without our efforts. We will put an end to this war—to this evil—that has murdered far too many innocents. _That _will be the purpose of the Order of the Phoenix."

And when Remus had asked what he could do, what he could possibly do as werewolf who couldn't even hold a proper job, couldn't even pay for new robes and decent meals, Dumbledore had merely smiled and said, "you shouldn't worry so much. You do much more than you know."

"I'm sorry," Sirius sighed. "We're having all this talk about death, and you two can't even go out for a day—James, this has got to be the worst birthday you've ever had."

"No it isn't," James said, and Lily lifted her eyebrows. "You both are here and now I know that Harry's going to be taken care of now, don't I? That's as good a gift as I'll ever get."

"What's this?" said Lily, teasing. "Is that the sound of James Potter counting his blessings for once?"

"You make me out to be so ungrateful," James snorted.

"Aren't you though?" Remus asked, still smiling.

"Well, after all that's happened, maybe I've changed my tune," said James, huffily. "Having a kid really makes you rethink what's important. Like being happy and healthy, and making sure your son's looked after."

"Well, I think we all need to be looked after, really," said Sirius wisely, and he lifted his hand to ruffle the black hair of the tiny Harry Potter, the boy who would mean so much to the entire Wizarding world. Harry did not understand his words, nor the gravity of the times, but he too would have agreed.

None of them knew what the future held—not yet, anyway—but the important thing was that they loved one another in tremendous proportions, and that was quite enough.

###


End file.
